In The Valley
by catscales
Summary: The First War was lost and Voldemort took power, the shadow descended. There was no Boy-Who-Lived, only the presumed dead daughter of Lily and James Potter and the little girl who grew up in the care of Severus Snape. Mentor Fic. Female HarryxVoldemort.
1. End Of An Era

I have in the past, been hesistant about writing Harry Potter fanfiction for the fact that in the end most of them can go unnoticed, and the whole Mythology can get twisted. Then I realised I could be writing Lord Of The Rings fanfiction and Harry Potter seemed tame by comparison. I'd rather have Rowling hate me than Tolkien.

So, Voldemort won. Dumbledore's fate is unknown and the Potter's had a daughter, not a son. Some names may sound familiar, that is all intentional.

* * *

On the rarely seen steps of the Ministry of Magic, a crowd gathered, undeterred by the lashing rain and thunder that had been rolling across the sky for three days. They watched as the round, rat like man slipped through the great doors and stood as though above them at the top of the steps, face twitching, fingers shaking as he unrolled the scroll he carried and cleared his throat.

"By Decree of the Minster of Magic, Britain, a state of Emergency is hereby in effect. A curfew is in place, any witch or wizard out after dark will be taken directly to Azkaban Prison on charges of Conspiracy and Treason." In the crowd, even the people who had been straining to hear the voice of the rat man paled in fear, clutching to the hands of the people around them, family or strangers. The man continued. "By order of the Minister for Magic, any Muggleborn witch or wizard is to surrender themselves to authorities for cleansing. By order of the Minister for Magic, any children of Muggle-Magic parentage must be surrendered to the Ministry for suitable placement. By order of the Minister for Magic, any persons associated with the Order Of The Phoenix or other similar vigilantly groups will be executed without trial on the charges of endangering Wizarding kind. These orders come from the Minister Of Magic for Britain, our Lord Voldemort. Long live our Lord."

"Is that it then Wormtail?" A heavily pregnant dark haired witch called from the crowd. A tall man attempted to pull her away, but determination in her eyes, and wand in her hand, she surged through the people until she stood before the rat man.

"Alice - don't." Her husband insisted.

"Traitor! Dumbledore trusted you!" Her voice broke with her screams as Wormtail began to back towards the doors. "You may lay at his feet, but you'll never be by his side!"

"Alice! Enough." Her husband managed to wrap his arms around her and dissaparate away, silence falling over the crowd, broken only by the thunder above them. The doors opened then and from within the Ministry, a group of black robed figures emerged, faces hidden under the ghastly masks they wore. The crowd scattered, disapparating as the Death Eaters began to draw their wands.

"Kill the Mudbloods." The Forefront Death Eater instructed. As jets of green light began to shoot through the crowd, above them in the crowds hovered a ghostly green skull, with a snake crawling from its mouth.

* * *

"Come on my darling." The red headed woman encouraged to the baby who stood on unsteady feet. "Come on Rosie, come to mummy."

"Don't listen to her Rose. Come to Daddy!" A dark haired man sat in the opposite direction, arms outstretched towards the dark haired child, who looked back and forth between the two of them before firmly planting herself on the ground, amusing herself with grabbing tuffs of grass to wrestle from the earth. The red haired woman sagged in disappointment for a moment before swooping the child from the ground, the two of them laughing as mother whirled daughter through the air.

"Let Daddy have a go Lily." The man encouraged, snatching his daughter lightly and racing to the other side of the small garden where he set her among the roses, blooming red. Roping his arm around his wife, he pulled her in for a kiss as their daughter happily played with the flowers that were her namesake. The rumble of thunder pulled them apart.

"Inside now I think." James declared, reaching down to pass Rose to her mother before gathering the remnants of their picnic lunch.

"Has there been any word James?" Lily asked as she set the baby down inside, taking the picnic basket from him and into the kitchen.

"Nothing." He said quietly, a silent conversation passed between their gazes as they thought about the implications of this development.

"Surely the others-" Lily was cut off by the sharp crack of apparation from their living room, and they both rushed to find a dishevelled Severus Snape gathering their daughter in his arms.

"What the Hell?" James roared as Snape thrust the crying baby into Lily's arms.

"Take her and leave." He ordered. "We don't have much time."

"What are you doing here?" Lily cried as Snape lifted a bag from his back and shoved it into James's arms.

"Your location has been compromised." He explained. "The Dark Lord comes for her." His pointed at the baby in Lily's arms.

"Rose is a child, she is no threat." Lily insisted, even as she shifted her daughter onto

her hip to free her hand, digging in a flower pot on the mantle for Floo Powder.

"There's not point." Snape told her. "He cut off the Floo connection. Run if you must, just go!"

There were sounds of cracking, Lily gasped in fear at the number of wizards that could be heard appearing on her front lawn, James fumbled for a moment with the bag in his arms, trying to usher his wife towards the back of the house.

"We have to hide." He insisted.

"Disapparate, now!" Snape insisted. "I'll hold them off."

Lily looked back and forth between her daughter, and her estranged friend, and when she looked back into her daughter's eyes, so much like her husbands, she put back the wail that threatened to rip from her chest and handed Rose over to Snape, who looked at the infant with a horrified expression.

"Take her." They heard the door smash open and heard the first steps of the Death Eaters spilling into the house. "Go! You are still needed. You can keep her alive!"

"No." Snape shook his head, put James just picked up a toy rabbit from the ground and tucked it in Snape's arms, with his daughter, giving her a broken hearted look.

"Keep her safe." Red lights began to flash as Snape held the baby tightly and disapparated away.

As the roses of their little garden, their piece of paradise, burned to ashes, Lily and James held hands tightly, their thoughts on the daughter they would never see grow up, and even as they lifted their wands, James turned to his wife one more time.

"I love you."

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

"Uncle Sev." A bony finger poked him in his side. Snape groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets higher. "Uncle Sev!"

He turned again and cracked an eyelid to see the small dark haired girl in front of him, clad in her long nightshirt, a badly worn rabbit missing an eye and ear, safely clasped in her hands.

"You are too old for this." He told her, turning over again.

"I had a nightmare." She complained.

"Think happy thoughts." Snape suggested coldly.

Without invitation, she scrambled into the bed, wiggling until she was tucked against his side, and relenting, Snape turned once more to wrap and arm around her.

"Goodnight Uncle Sev." She whispered. Snape, who now uncomfortable with the small child pulling the covers away, her cold feet tucked against his legs and her dark hair tickling his nose when he breathed, simply dragged the covers higher and made sure her rabbit was secure.

"Go to sleep Lylah." He ordered.

She woke, as she did most mornings, before the sun. Snape was up even earlier, hand wrapped around a mug of tea, hastily scanning through the Daily Prophet as though the newspaper would reveal more than the drivel of the previous days, and weeks, and years. When the small thundering of Lylah's footsteps caused the roof above his head to complain, he knew to pour her milk into her cereal bowl and pour water into her awaiting tea cup, he even held out her dressing gown so that when she came flying around the corner, hair streaming out behind her, she could slip straight into it, onto her seat with breakfast waiting.

"Anything different?" She asked, trying to lean over the table to read the paper upside down. In response, Snape snapped the paper up, allowing her to see nothing more than the headline of the front cover and the sports section on the back page.

"What's the proclamation?" Lylah questioned, frowning as she looked at the picture of the man on the front. "What silly rule has he come up with this time?"

"The Dark Lord will continue to issue these 'silly rules' until he is satisfied his control is supreme." Snape muttered.

"Why do you have so many meetings with him if you think his rules are silly?" Lylah asked with a child's curiosity and the beginnings of a teenagers smart mouth.

"Because one must not anger his country's dictator." Snape snapped at her. "Eat your breakfast and stop asking silly questions."

In grumpy silence, Lylah spooned in mouthfuls of cereal, still reading the small print on the front page.

"It's my Birthday next week." She suddenly announced, causing Snape to sigh and drop his paper to the table again so he could regard the child from across the table.

"I am aware of this fact. What of it?" He asked.

"I know what I want for my birthday." She declared. "I want a pet snake."

Snape spluttered into his tea. "Absolutely not. You will receive a gift befitting a young lady of your age, such as a dress or a new doll."

"I'm turning eleven, Uncle Sev." Lylah told him, face serious. "Dolls are for six year olds, and I have too many dresses."

"Then you will receive supplies for you when you start Hogwarts." Snape told her.

She looked crestfallen.

"It says in my school letter that I can bring a familiar." She insisted, conjuring the letter from nowhere are showing him a much read passage.

"A cat or a rat or a toad." Snape read. "And being a teacher there, I can assure you that a snake is not an acceptable pet for a first year. You can pick out a present when we visit Diagon Alley next month to buy school supplies."

"My birthday is next week." She pointed out again. "Maybe just an owl then?" She relented.

"If you continue with your whining, the only thing you will be receiving is a caning. Eat your breakfast and I won't hear another word of it." Snape barked, opening the newspaper between them again.

Frowning, Lylah turned back to her now soggy cereal, still eyeing the man on the front of the Prophet.

A week later, on the last day of July, Lylah bounded down the stairs in her usual manner to find her Uncle waiting as always, with her cereal, tea and robe. In the centre of the table, a large cage sat, where perched inside a snowy white owl peered through the bars with luminous eyes,

Lylah ignored the proffered robe, instead choosing to launch herself at her uncle in excitement, pressing kisses on his cheeks.

"She is for communication between home and school." Snape instructed as they walked along Diagon Alley later that day, both wearing black robes, Lylah's school list clutched between gloved hands. "Not for silly frivolities between other girls."

"Can I get a subscription to the Prophet?" Lylah asked as the entered Gringotts.

"Yes, although they will send their owls to you." Snape informed her, approaching a Goblin who was set high up. "Wait here." Snape instructed Lylah, who rolled her eyes and slumped against a wall while Snape handed the Goblin a key and disappeared into the volts, a place she'd never been allowed to see.

"I believe it's happy birthday, young Miss." A smooth voice interrupted her latest scan of her supply list, and Lylah bit back a frightened yelp as she looked into the gleaming red eyes of the man standing before her.

Looking no more than thirty, neatly shaven and dressed, it was not just the red eyes that frightened people, but the way that the Dark Lord held himself high, power rolling off him in waves. Even the other man who stood a few steps back, clutching a binder of parchment looked scared to be in his company.

"Have we met before, My Lord?" She finally asked timidly, avoiding eye contact, unsure of how to act in the man's presence.

He chuckled lightly. "A few times, you were a child then."

Lylah was about to retort that she was a child still, when the sliding sensation of something cold on her ankles made her look down to see a massive snake coiled about her feet, banishing in an instant her yearning for her own snake.

In a billow of robes, her Uncle appeared, smoothing out his appearance as he faced the Dark Lord, casually shifting Lylah so that she was almost behind him, but not gone from his sight completely. Nagini hissed at his, put moved away to coil around Voldemort's feet.

"My Lord." Snape greeted respectfully, hand firmly on Lylah's shoulder.

"Severus." Voldemort returned. "I was just talking to your niece here, her birthday today. An exciting day for any young lady. How old are you now?" He asked, leaning in close to her.

"Eleven." She voice in little more than a whisper.

"Well then." From his robes, he withdrew a small purple pouch that clinked with its movements, pressing it into her hand. "To help with your school supplies."

Lylah was quiet for a moment until Snape gave her a small shove.

"Thankyou." She said quietly, unable to look him in the eye.

"Your welcome." He gave the end of her long dark braid a slight tug that made her instantly resolve to cut her hair short first chance she got. "Severus, a meeting tonight." Voldemort informed his follower, who nodded and began to steer Lylah away, stopping at the last minute to bow to the man and nudging Lylah to do the same. Her movements were jerky and awkward and as soon as they were away from the bank, the two of them moved quickly down the street, speaking little as they gathered her necessary books and equipment, neither touching the money Voldemort had gift Lylah with.

Finally, when she was on a pedestal at Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, did Snape finally speak.

"I will be away tonight." He informed her as robes were magically hemmed to suit her height, still far away from a growth spurt, she was small for her age.

"Will you be there for dinner?" Lylah asked quietly.

"Probably not." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Will you behave for the house elf?"

"I've always been good to Tippy." Lylah insisted, flinching as the seamstress managed to stab her with a needle.

"You go away to school soon. We will not always be able to spend time together." Snape breached the subject carefully.

"You're a teacher there, aren't you" She asked. "I know you won't play favourites in class, but we can still talk."

"You will be sleeping in the dormitories." Snape reminded her.

"I know." Lylah sighed.

The bell above the shop door rang, and Lylah watched as a familiar man with long blonde hair escorted a younger version of himself through the door.

"Severus." The older man greeted her uncle with a sneer, and Lylah found her hand itching to grab the wand she had not yet bought and fling a curse that she had not yet learned towards the older man. "Miss Snape." He turned to acknowledge her presence.

"Mr. Malfoy." She barely attempted to contain her look of contempt.

"Lucius." Snape returned the sneer, but turning to the boy with an almost fond look on his face, quickly replaced with his typical hard expression. "Draco, ten already?"

"Uncle Severus." He inclined his head, and Lylah almost shouted out against the pale, pinched face boy using such familiar terms with _her_ uncle.

"Eleven, actually." He corrected.

"Draco will start school next month." Lucius informed Snape as Draco was guided onto a pedestal beside Lylah.

"You must be Uncle Sev's charge." Draco drawled, instantly planting the seeds of dislike in Lylah's mind.

"I am his niece." She defended hotly. "He is my actual Uncle."

"Where are your parents then?" Draco asked, looking amused as robes were wrapped around him, the seamstress setting to work on the sizing.

"Dead." She snapped, allowing the seamstress to pass her another set of robes to alter.

"Too bad. My mother's up the street looking at wands." He informed her smartly.

"Is your mother going to hold you hand when they sort you as well?" Lylah retorted.

"I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been." He declared. "Imagine being a Hufflepuff, I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Lylah was eternally grateful that at that moment, the seamstress allowed her to step down, least she use a few of her Uncle's favourite words on the idiotic boy. When her new school robes were finally bundled into a parcel and handed to her, she turned to find her uncle and Lucius still huddled in a private, tense conversation.

Her uncle simply handed her his money pouch, trusting her to pay the expenses so that he could finish his conversation, and by the time Lylah had correctly counted the money and received her change, she turned again to find the two men had separated, both wearing identical scowls.

"Come along then." Snape held open the door for her, neither of them sparing a second glance for the Malfoy's. "Have you thought of a name for your owl?"

"Hedwig." She told him, having settled on a name from one of the books from the extensive Snape library.

Her uncle nodded his approval and led her to Ollivander's Wand Shop, which although supposedly being the finest wand shop in Europe, did not boast an impressive interior. Instead, the sparse furniture and shelves lined and stacked with long thin boxes, were all covered in a fine layer of dust. Lylah found herself running a finger through the dust and frowning at the dirt she wiped away.

Ollivander, she found to be quite odd, muttering to himself as he scanned the rows of boxes, and when he finally noticed them standing there, he said nothing, simply withdrawing an unusually dust free box from directly under the counter.

"I have just the wand for you my dear." He removed the thing piece of wood gently, as though it was a fragile child, and almost reverently, he presented it to Lylah.

"You don't even know who I am." Lylah told him condescendingly.

"I know those eyes anywhere, just like your mother." Ollivander told her, thrusting the wand into her hands.

Lylah closed her eyes as she felt the magic of the wands, not quite like the other wands she'd held in her life, this was different. Thrumming with power in sync to her racing heart, she didn't even bother to wave it around and produce the customary shower of sparks before she pocketed it and nodded her head in agreement.

"We won't be requiring the box." She told him smartly, turning to gesture for her Uncle to pay.

"Yes we will." Snape held out the box for Lylah to put the wand into, before handing over a tidy sum of gold to Ollivander.

"Don't you want to know what kind of wand it is?" Ollivander asked Lylah, who nodded furiously, clutching onto the box tightly. "Eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather core."

"Let's go." Snape suddenly said, putting a hand on Lylah's shoulder and leading her from the shop, the girl completely missing the dark look Snape shot in Ollivander's direction.

A month later, Lylah and a trunk full of well read books were standing on Platform 9 3/4, watching as other families embraced furiously, parents and children sobbed in each others arms while reunited classmates rapidly exchanged stories of their summer adventures.

Inside her cage, Hedwig sat, wings hunched as people jostled around, racing each other to get the best seats on the train, discussing what treats they were going to buy with their summer earnings, and what clothes they had purchased. Two boys on the platform had opened their trunks, belongings spilling around them as they compared brooms with each other.

"Well then." Snape stood awkwardly beside her, hand on her shoulder as she prepared to board the train.

"Are you disapparating to the school?" Lylah asked, taking from him her satchel and settling it on her shoulders.

"To Hogsmeade." He corrected. After another moments silence, he suddenly dug through his pockets and haded her a few sickles. "For the food cart." He explained, and she nodded her thanks.

"I'd better go then." She said, gathering Hedwig's cage.

"Shall I help with your luggage?" Snape asked, giving a nasty glare to three red head boys who ran past, almost knocking Lylah over.

"It's fine." She said, although allowing her uncle to put a feather light spell so that she could easily carry all her belongings onto the train.

"I will see you at the school." He said by way of farewell, and for a moment, Lylah dropped her belongings and hugged him around the waist, before racing onto the Hogwarts Express.

Somehow, she managed to find an empty compartment, neat and clean from magical assistance, and once she had stored her luggage, she stared out the window at the families who were still clutching each other, feeling for the first time in a long time, a stab of sadness.

Pushing those feelings aside, she retrieved from her satchel, a copy of 'Hogwarts: A History', a birthday gift from one of her Uncle's co-workers, opening it to a dog eared page.

"Excuse me." A voice pulled her from the book, and Lylah realised that while she'd been reading, the train had started moving through the countryside, the door to her compartment had been opened and a sheepish looking red head boy was standing in the doorway.

"Hello." She carefully set her book down in her lap and looked over the boy.

"Do you mind?" He gestured to the empty seats. "The other compartments are all full."

"No problem at all." Lylah indicated towards the empty seat and the boy gave her a grateful, relived look as he dragged his trunk inside and slumped down in the seat across from her.

"First year as well?" He asked, inspecting her luggage in the overhead, all new and undamaged, perfect next to his own battered trunk.

"Easy to tell?" She asked. "My Uncle's a teacher, so I've been in the castle before."  
"Wicked." The boy explained. "I'm Ronald Weasley, Ron."

"Lylah Snape." She shook his proffered hand.

"Snape?" He asked, looking a little frightened.

"I assume you know my uncle?" Lylah asked. "It's okay, I'm nothing like him."

"Oh, okay then." Ron settled back, still looking a little uncertain.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Lylah asked, remembering the wild red heads at the train station.

"Five brothers." Ron admitted. "All older. And a younger sister."

"All at Hogwarts?" Lylah asked, fascinated.

"Well no, Bill and Charlie, they're the older ones, they graduated." Ron explained.

"And the others?" Lylah questioned.

"Fred and George." Ron said. "They're twins, and Percy, but he's a right prat."

Lylah giggled as Ron began to entertain her with stories of the twins pranks, but they were interrupted by a plump woman with a kind face pushing a trolley loaded with food.

"Anything from the Lunch Trolley dears?" She asked, Ron's face lit up as he looked at all the sweets loaded there, but his expression dropped as he pulled a lumpy sandwich from his pocket and gave it a little wave.

"I'm right, thanks." He said.

Lylah felt around for the money her uncle had given her.

"Perhaps you could help me try some?" Lylah asked, watching as his face brightened up again. With Ron's help, Lylah perused though the food there, selecting as many different treats as they could, and by the time the trolley was pushed away, they were surrounded by a multitude of treats her uncle had never let her eat regularly.

"Have you tried these before?" Ron asked, throwing in her direction a packet of assorted jellybeans.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans." Lylah read aloud. "How many flavours can there be?"

"You want to be careful with those." Ron warned. "When they say every flavour, they mean _every_ flavour. You get your normal ones like chocolate, peppermint and marmalade, but then you get those like spinach, and liver, and tripe."

Lylah delicately wrinkled her nose and set the beans aside, picking up a chocolate frog instead.

"I've had these before." She exclaimed, opening the box and with the ease of practice, catching the live chocolate and biting its head off. She offered the still wriggling second half to Ron who shoved it in his mouth along with all the other food he'd yet to chose and swallow, while Lylah delicately took the collectors card from inside the box.

"Who'd you get?" Ron asked.

"Black." Lylah said, putting the card back in the box and setting it on the seat.

"Like the Headmaster?"

"Yes, do you collect them?" She inquired casually.

"I used to, but then all the old ones started getting replaced with Death Eaters." Ron shrugged.

"They asked my uncle if he wanted his own card." Lylah told him. "He threatened to hex them."

"I heard they want to release a card of You-Know-Who." Ron mentioned, actually swallowing his mouthful of food. "But they can't put his face, or name, or any details."

"A blank card is no fun." Lylah said, grabbing a liquorish wand and giving half to Ron.

"Has anyone seen a toad." The compartment door slid open again and there stood a pale faced girl, already in her school robes, with dark haired weaved neatly at the back of her head. "A girl named Lucy has lost one."

"No toads in here." Lylah told her, the girl's eyes going past her face and onto Lylah's abandoned copy of 'Hogwarts: A History'.

"Fascinating book, isn't it?" She asked, sitting down next to Lylah and picking up her copy. "I'm Hermione Prewitt." She introduced, turning slightly, giving Lylah full view of the yellow armband she wore on her upper right arm.

"You're Muggleborn?" Ron gaped, food still half chewed in his mouth. Insulted, the girl stood up, snapping her robes straight again.

"I was adopted by a respectable pureblood family." She informed him sourly. "And they at least, can afford to buy me new school supplies." She eyed Ron's battered trunk.

"Lylah Snape." Lylah stood and offered the other girl her hand, Hermione stared at her for a second before shaking her hand, eyeing the lack of an armband.

"Snape doesn't sound like a pureblood name." She replied.

"Even if it was." Lylah bit back, no longer liking the girl in front of her. "My uncle is a teacher, and," she leaned closer and said quietly, "he was part of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle."

Wisely, Hermione backed away.

"I'll probably be seeing you both in class then." She nodded before leaving the compartment quickly.

Ron didn't look her in the eye as she sat back down, but conversation was quickly struck up again as they began to try the Bertie Bott's Beans, laughing until it began to grow dark.

"Robes on." An older student stopped briefly to issue the instruction before moving on, and ever the gentleman, Ron disappeared to find a bathroom to change in while Lylah slipped her robes on in the compartment.

When Ron returned, Lylah was able to see the red armband on his upper right arm.

Ron blushed as she looked and tried to cover it with shaking fingers.

"It means blood traitor." He told her, head down, ashamed.

"There's nothing wrong with fighting for what you believe in." Lylah told him pensively. "The armbands thing is just stupid."

Ron grinned at her, then his smile faded just a bit. "So, you think you'll be in Slytherin then?"

Lylah sighed and shrugged a little. "My uncle keeps telling me I'm destined for Ravenclaw, and he'll disown me if I become a Hufflepuff."

"All my family's been in Gryffindor." Ron revealed.

"Maybe we'll have classes together." Lylah mused as the train began to roll to a stop and the prefects began to usher the students from the train. "It was nice meeting you Ronald Weasley."

"First Years!" The voice that called them was high and sharp. It issued from the mouth of a pale, stern faced witch with black tangled hair and a half crazed expression on her face. The tattered dress she wore in lieu of robes seemed to suit the escaped lunatic image she was trying to achieve. She would have beautiful if not for her shadowed, heavily lidded eyes, the skin of her face stretched taunt across her skull.

"Lestrange. We're doomed." One of the other children muttered, being hushed by their peers as they grouped together to approach the dark witch.

"Well?" She snapped. "Follow me." Turning sharply on her heel, she began to lead them towards the lake, and it crossed the mind of more than one child that this formidable woman would be more than happy to drown them in the murky depths.

As they walked, closely together, Lylah found herself being jostled towards the front of the group, where most were hesitant to walk close to Lestrange.

"Hello Aunty." Draco Malfoy, it seemed, did not fear his aunt like the other students, but the way he shrunk back as she turned to regard him, betray his nervousness around the woman.

"Draco." She nodded, her eyes growing wider with delight when she saw Lylah hunching her shoulders and trying to see where she was walking on the dark path. "Little Snape." Her voice grew to a sing song and she allowed the other children to pass her, filing towards a small fleet of tiny boats moored to a pier, so that she could grab Lylah by the arm and haul her from the crowd.

"Mrs. Lestrange." Lylah muttered by way of greeting, remembering the dark acts for which this woman was well known.

"Call me Bellatrix." She said, malice trickling into her soft voice. "Or Professor, I teach the Dark Arts." She declared proudly. Lylah silently agreed that she was perfect for the job, but wisely chose to remain silent. Bellatrix gave Lylah a not so gentle shove towards the pier and sharing a boat with her, when the last student was sitting the boats began to drift towards the magnificent castle, merely lights against the night sky, reflecting off the water.

When they reached the other side of the lake, they were led through a narrow tunnel, Bellatrix having no qualms about shoving aside a yellow armband wearing student in order to reach the front, and when they reached what appeared to be a dead end, she turned to face them.

"Had my way, half of you would not be here." She declared, glaring at the muggleborn students. "That's a warning, watch your step." She drew her wand and in turn pointed it at each of the yellow and red armband wearing pupils before an invisible door opened and another, older, witch emerged.

"I will take things from here." She announced, her stern eyes looking them over, the faintest trace of a Scottish accent audible in the way she spoke. She held her head high, dressed in fine emerald green robes with a crooked pointed hat perched on her tightly bound grey streaked hair. Bellatrix stared at the older witch for a moment in contempt before she disappeared down a passageway, the students heard the echo of a cackling laugh and suppressed shudders.

"I am Professor McGonagall." The witch introduced, apparently undisturbed by Lestrange's behaviour.. "I am the Transfiguration teacher here at Hogwarts. In a moment, each of you will be sorted into one of four houses. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, or my own house, Gryffindor. You will eat, sleep and attend classes with your housemates. Your positive actions will earn points for your house, while misbehaviour will result in point loss. Follow me."

They followed her through another tunnel, and through several doors until they were forced to file in a straight line through a smaller door leading into the Great Hall, Lylah recognising it from her own previous adventures in Hogwarts as a younger child.

Looking up a ceiling, she could see the night sky, as though the roof was simply gone, and she heard the informative voice of Hermione Prewitt say tartly.

"It's enchanted to look like the night sky, I read it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."

Lylah having seen the ceiling before, chose instead to look up at the teacher's table, elevated on a dais so that the figures there could lord over the students. Recognising her uncle, Lylah gave a small wave, which he returned with a solemn nod in her direction. Letting her eyes drift, she recognised several other teachers she had been previously introduced to, and several she had never seen before, and at the centre of the table, supreme to even Headmaster Black, Voldemort watched the children enter through wicked red eyes.

McGonagall wasted no time in setting a large, battered hat upon a stool in front of the school, ushering the first years closer, she unrolled a scroll and proceeded to start reading names in a sharp voice that echoed around the silent hall.

"I read that the hat used to sing songs each year." The voice of Hermione Prewitt hissed in Lylah's ear.

"That was stopped when it kept issuing the Dark Lord threats." Lylah murmured, watching as a delighting Hannah Abbott was sorted into Hufflepuff. When Susan Bones went to sit on the stool, her shaking hands smoothed a red armband, an expression of anger on her face as she sat beneath the hat, which contemplated the girl's fate for a moment before sending her to Hufflepuff as well.

As each student was sorted, the receiving house gave a polite round of applause, the sounds dying down instantly as each new student sat, and when her name was called, Hermione Prewitt straightened her shoulders and moved quickly, sitting under the hat for a few moments, before the hat sorted her into Gryffindor, with a smug expression, the girl moved to her table at sat, watching her classmates.

"Snape, Lylah." Lylah gave a start as her name was called, and sat down on the stool, blushing under the realisation that everyone in the hall was staring at her as the hat began to whisper in her ear.

"Well, well, what have we here?" The hat asked, and Lylah began to feel uncomfortable in the idea that a hat of all things was rummaging around in her brain and examining her characteristics. "Certainly not Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw, you are smart, Slytherin would take you far. No. GRYFFINDOR."

McGonagall removed the hat from her head and allowed her to move to the Gryffindor table where she sat next to Hermione Prewitt who gave her a quiet congratulations as the next student sat down. Looking around the Gryffindor table, Lylah was shocked to find that she was one of the only students in her house who didn't wear an armband marking her as a muggleborn, half-blood or blood traitor.

Glancing up at the Head table, Lylah saw her uncle giving her a contemplative look, eyebrows arched as he regarded the banner she sat underneath, and moving along Lylah felt an uncomfortable shiver go down her spine when she realised that Voldemort was looking at her in the same contemplative manner.

"Weasley, Ronald." McGonagall called, and when the red head sat down, the hat had barely touched his head when it called out Gryffindor. Lylah cheered along with her classmates as Ron slid along the bench next to her, looking relived as he received hearty claps on the back from his brothers.

Finally, after sending Zabini, Blaise to Slytherin, McGonagall rolled up her list and removed the hat, returning moments later to take her seat on the end of the Head table.

There was quiet again as Headmaster Black stood, looking around at the students sitting there expectantly.

"Welcome Back." He greeted, although he didn't sound at all like he meant it. "To our First Years, some rules. Going into the Forbidden Forest is forbidden without teacher instructions. Curfew must be obeyed. No curses in the halls unless instructed by a teacher, armbands to be worn by students who are required to wear them. That is all."

He sat back down and almost instantly, the tables were groaning under the weight of a feast, every type of food in front of the students.

The silence that until then had been tense was broken by the gentle murmuring of students that turned into loud chatter that filled the Great Hall as students began to become at ease with the eyes of the Dark Lord upon them.

"He doesn't seem very happy to be Headmaster." Ron mutter to Lylah as they began to load up their plates, jerking his head in the direction of the Head table.

"Well if he stuffs up, he doesn't just get fired, he'll get killed." Someone added.

"I heard he threw a hissy fit because You-Know-Who has a bigger office." One of the older students threw in as they reached across to grab a bread roll.

"That's silly." Someone rebuked. "Why would he need an office here anyway."

"To make sure we're all suitably scared of him." Everyone laughed quietly before settling down and casting worried glances towards Voldemort.

"I think he's succeeded in scaring people." Lylah whispered to Ron as he handed her a platter, grinning at her comment.

"Who decided that Regulus Black would make a good Headmaster anyway?" Ron asked. "His brother's a blood traitor."

"Black has a brother?" A fellow first year asked curiously. "Blood traitor brother?"  
"He was in the Order." Ron informed them, feeling momentarily superior.

"With our mum and dad." Ron's red head twin brothers informed them in unison.

"What happened to him?" Lylah asked in between mouthfuls of potatoes.

"Dunno." Ron shrugged. "Died or something."

Lylah settled back in her chair, full, watching as the other students finished their dinners, mind racing about the stories her uncle had told her about Regulus Black and his usurpation of the previous Headmaster.

"Say Hermione." She turned to the girl next to her, who turned to her eagerly. "Can you remember the last Headmaster's name?"

"Before Black, Carrow ran things in You-Know-Who's stead." Hermione said.

"But before that?" Lylah pressed. Hermione frowned and shook her head.

"I don't know, it was omitted from 'Hogwarts: A History'." She said, looking annoyed about this. "But I can look in the library, I hear it has three layers and a restricted section!"

Lylah tuned out the girl's incessant ramblings about the library, choosing instead to watch her uncle and the Headmaster at the table, missing the eyes of Voldemort, watching her.

* * *

So there it is. I intend to have my Harry-character form a mentor bond with Voldemort, and perhaps a sexual relationship to follow (when's she older of course) But it all depends of how things pan out.


	2. Darkly Dreaming

Something that amazed me after posting this story was that 200 people added it to story alert, and fav. And I got 5 reviews. Nice. Thanks. That doesn't even count the drop ins.

So while the temptation was to go, 'screw you all', I believe in second chances.

This is for: Spacecakeje, kamuinoyumi, Lanai, First Lady Lestat and secretlovers, who apart from being awesome reviwers who I love dearly, are a testamet to the great names of fanfiction members.

* * *

In her first night in Gryffindor tower, Lylah woke screaming.

Through the gaps in the curtains of her four poster bed, she could see lightning forking across the sky, blocked from view by the appearance of a chubby faced girl.

"Are you okay?" Daisy Pembleton, who was a fixture in the minds of people having almost tripped on her robes as she made her way to Gryffindor table after the sorting, now looked at Lylah with a mixture of horror and concern.

"Just a nightmare." Lylah wiped sweat of her forehead and settled back against her pillows. "It was nothing, sorry I woke you."

"It's okay." Uninvited, Daisy perched herself on the side of Lylah's bed. "I wasn't sleeping anyway, this place is scary." Looking around their circular dormitory, Lylah couldn't help but agree with the other girl on that fact. Where once the house may have been welcoming, the stones seemed cold and hating.

"Better get some sleep." Lylah recommended. "Classes start tomorrow."

"Sleep well then." Daisy wished her before stumbling over to her own bed and closing the curtains shut, leaving Lylah alone with her thoughts as she tried to remember the nightmare that woke her, unsuccessfully.

The next morning, the storm had passed but a cover of clouds still blanketed the sky, although spirits were high in the Great Hall as students chatted cheerily, exchanging the occasional look of horror as class schedules were passed around.

"Double Potions every Monday!" One girl wailed to her friend as Lylah passed, making her grin as she remember her Uncle's reputation when it came to teaching. Sliding onto a bench next to Ron Weasley, who had already started filling his mouth with food, Lylah was passed her own schedule by McGonagall. She smiled in delight when she saw her first lesson to be Potions, albeit with the Slytherins, and looked up at the Head Table, where her Uncle was in quiet conversation with a teacher in a turban next to him.

Headmaster Black did not make an appearance throughout breakfast, and neither did the Dark Lord, to the relief of the student body, and from the looks of it, some teachers and when it came time to leave for classes, people were hesitant to leave.

Lylah on the other hand dragged Ron from the Hall, making sure he had all his books on him before tracing a familiar path down to the dungeons, while the others in their class stumbled around trying to find the Potions Classroom.

Ron planted his feet as they came to the classroom, trying to avoid being the first ones in there, but Lylah was fierce in her excitement, all but carrying him over the threshold and sitting them in seats right in the middle, it was a while before the rest of the class slowly began to trickle in, even the over zealous Hermione Prewitt rushed in after most of the other students, red in the face, hair escaping her braid in curls.

As everyone sat down Gryffindors to one side, Slytherins to the other, they all looked around the class expectantly, some even staring at Lylah as though expecting her to summon her Uncle from nowhere, hesitant to make noise or create a fuss in case she decided to relay the details of their actions to Snape.

Finally the door burst open and he strode in, black robes billowing behind him as he walked. Everyone

"There will be no foolish wand waving in my class." He informed them darkly. "I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death."

As he spoke, he swept around the class, glaring at all of them, save Lylah, making the students pale and avert their eyes in nervousness.

After Snape was satisfied that he had terrorised the first years thoroughly, he set them about brewing the most simplest of potions of only to give them a taste of lessons to come, and at the end walked around the class insulting attempts and taking points away for careless mistakes. When they finally staggered from the class, Gryffindor had lost points and the Slytherins were glowing from the blatant favouritism shown by Snape. Lylah walked along with Ron Weasley, who looked relived to be away from the classroom.

"You grew up with him?" He finally managed to ask as they began to walk up the stairs from the dungeons.

"He's much nicer outside of the classroom." Lylah assured him, linking arms with him drag him in the direction of Charms with the rest of the Gryffindors. Hermione Prewitt, who along with Lylah had been one of the only students to make something to vaguely resembled a potion was ahead of them, babbling to poor Daisy Pembleton about her Potion and how she was going to research it again, Daisy, who had created something that had the consistency of glue looked as if she would rather be anywhere but talking to Hermione, looked incredibly relieved when they reached the Charms classroom.

The tiny man that greeted them introduced himself cheerily as being Professor Flitwick, standing on a pile of teetering books so that he could make eye contact as they filtered into the classroom and sat at their desks. Flitwick's happy demeanour made the lesson enjoyable, and by the end of the class, he allowed them to spend the last few minutes talking among themselves.

It was Dark Arts that most of the students dragged their feet heading towards. Lestrange had made it no secret of her dislike for muggleborn students, who huddled together as though expecting an attack as they entered the classroom, which was surprisingly on in regular classroom and not a dungeon torture chamber.

They all entered one at a time, cautiously, and sat down at their desks, some even checking under the desks as though to make sure Professor Lestrange wasn't hiding underneath them. When she finally did enter the classroom, tattered dress dragging behind her, the slamming of the door made everyone jump, watching as she threw a book down on the desk of a student.

"The. Dark. Arts." Each word was punctuated by her throwing down another book on another desk. "How to defend against them is Quirrell's problem. The things I can teach you haven't been taught in any school until the Dark Lord's ascension and you will listen!" Her tirade ended in screaming as a book went flying towards two Ravenclaw girls, who's heads were together, softly talking.

"Sorry Professor." One of the girl's stammered, and Lestrange went in for the kill, using her wand to lift the girl's chin and stare at her.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"P-padma Patil." The girl stuttered, her companion shifting away from her slowly.

"Ah yes." Lestrange said. "You had a sister, dead though isn't she?"

The girl nodded frantically and Lestrange withdrew her wand, leaving Padma to slump down in relief.

"_Crucio._" In a blur, she had turned back again and flung a curse towards Padma, as the spell connected, she fell to the floor, screaming and twitching as Lestrange trained her wand on her. Finally, she relented and Padma stopped screaming, still jerking, twitching and crying softly.

"You." Bellatrix pointed her wand at a Ravenclaw named Terry Boot. "Take her to the infirmary." Terry wasted no time in dragging Padma from the floor and out the door, not saying a word as Padma's cries faded. "Let that be a lesson to the rest of you. Now, who can tell me what spell that was."

Everyone in the classroom was quiet, unwilling to draw attention to themselves, and Lylah was about to raise her hand, before Lestrange could pick a victim, when Daisy Pembleton raised a trembling hand into the air.

"The Cruciatus Curse." For all her trembling, the words were clear and Lestrange smiled in delight.

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor." The students watched in amazement as she sauntered to the front of the classroom, twirling her wand. "Can anyone tell me the other Unforgivables?" She asked as she continued in throwing books down on desks, a copy landing with a thud in front of Lylah, _Dark Arts Through The Ages._

"The Imperious Curse." Someone volunteered from Ravenclaw, sounding shaken from the treatment of their housemate.

"_Imperio_." Lestrange shouted, pointing her wand at the volunteer, who started slapping himself in the face. "Alright, that's enough." A wave of her wand and the volunteer stopped, a hand flying to sooth a red cheek. "And the last Unforgivable?"

No one answered, even though the chances are that they all knew the answer. Lestrange circled the class, waving her wand around in a nonsensical pattern , occasionally snapping around to glare at a student and when no answer was offered, she smiled manically and raised her wand high.

"The Killing Curse." Lylah almost shouted, silently cursing her tongue as Lestrange turned to face her.

"Silly children. I'm not in the mood to kill." She laughed, almost prancing to the ground of the classroom. "That'll be all today. Chapters One and Two for homework."

Amazed at their abrupt dismissal, most of them snatched their books up and raced for the door, Lylah moving a little slower to help a pale Daisy from her chair and from the classroom.

As soon as they were several hallways from the classroom, most of them stopped to slump against a wall, or in the case of a few of them, vomit on the ground and cling to one another.

"That was even scarier than Potions." Ron was so pale his freckles stood out starkly against his skin. He leaned against a wall and watched as Lylah held back Daisy's hair as she heaved up her breakfast on the ground.

"What are you all doing out of class." Everyone straightened up as Snape swooped in from nowhere, eyeing them suspiciously.

"We just had Dark Arts." Lylah told him, jumping back as Daisy started vomiting again. Lylah thought she heard her uncle curse under his breath as he rummaged through the pockets of his robes, producing a vial of an cloudy green potion, which he handed to Lylah to feed to Daisy.

He must have summoned McGonagall, because she appeared from nowhere, looking rushed as she took in the pale shaking first years. She shook her head as she began handing out large chunks of chocolate, encouraging them to eat it.

Looking around, Lylah realised her uncle had disappeared, but put him out of her mind as she took a bite of McGonagall's chocolate, feeling a warming feeling in the tips of her fingers and toes, wondering if the sweets were magical. Daisy too, ate her chocolate with gusto, looking much better as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Lestrange was notable absent from the meal, as was the Headmaster. It was rumoured that Voldemort had left the school on business, and reassured by the lack of Dark Wizards, the children ate happily.

After lunch, Hermione Prewitt led the way to Duelling and Defence, taught by Quirrell, and most were disappointed by the stammering man that greeted them. Instead of pulling out their wands and learning several curses that could put witches like Lestrange in their place, they were told to start reading their text books. Most skimmed through the required passages quietly before opening Lestrange's text book _Dark Arts Through The Ages_ and began diligently studies, on the off chance that Lestrange decided on another quiz complete with demonstrations in the next class.

When they were finally free to leave Duelling and Defence they made their way out of the castle and into Greenhouse 1, where Professor Sprout began to lecture on the uses of magical plants in forms of spellcasting.

When it was finally time for dinner, Lylah was exhausted and overwhelmed by the information that had been rapidly delivered, barely able to keep her head from lagging into her pudding at dinner.

Hermione Prewitt it seemed, was on a mission to top each and every class, as well as ensure that she had some competition, rousing the other first year Gryffindors into studying in the common room despite their protests and it took all her effort for Lylah to slip away into their dormitory.

It was their first lesson of History of Magic that threatened to thwart Lestrange's intimidation attempt. With the early days of Voldemort had come the exorcism of all the ghosts of Hogwarts and for the past ten years people spoke little about the History teacher, so as the first years filed in, they were apprehensive as they sat, jumping with every noise, although ten minutes later, there was still no teacher. When the door was flung open, they all jumped, some even scrambling to stand as a beautiful, unmistakable blonde woman swept into the room. Her eyes, pale and cold, found Draco Malfoy sitting arrogantly slumped like a king on his throne, and Narcissa Malfoy gave her son a cool smile. She walked closer, carefully, each step echoing loudly on the stone floor, and when she reacher her son, she reached out a pale hand, and abruptly smacked him across the face.

"Sit up straight." She said quietly, although in the quiet room, she could have been yelling. "I am Professor Malfoy. You may have noticed that like a few of you in this room," her eyes appraised Lylah and a few others, "I do not wear an armband, of any colour, unless I choose to. And should I wear one, what colour would it be?"

A few hands raised slowly into the air, although Hermione Prewitt, undeterred by the dangerously cool Narcissa Malfoy, shot her hand into the air eagerly, capturing the older woman's attention. She arched an eyebrow in Hermione's direction, Hermione taking this as invitation.

"Blue." She announced. "You are of the pureblood Black line and married into the pureblood Malfoy line, if you choose, you can wear blue."

Narcissa's mouth formed a slight smile.

"Tell me Mudblood," her eyes lingered as a look of distaste spread across her face. "What is your name?"

Hermione's face dropped at the insult, but she still answered, in a voice that trembled ever so slightly.

"Hermione Prewitt, Professor." She muttered towards the desk, but Narcissa heard her clearly.

"Prewitt? Interesting." She remarked, lightly brushing a lock of blond hair away from her face and turning away from a very red Hermione. "Miss Snape."

Lylah had been trying to avoid the woman's gaze, knowing her history with her Uncle, but her efforts were in vain as she swooped in.

"Professor Malfoy." Lylah nodded.

"Perhaps, Miss Snape, you can tell me why certain students are wearing yellow armbands?" Narcissa requested.

"It symbolises they are Muggleborn, or of Muggleborn parentage." Lylah explained, knowing that several members of the glass were now glaring hatefully at her.

"Exactly." Narcissa swept her gaze around the room again. "Draco, darling, why are some students wearing red?"  
"Means that they're blood traitors." Draco called out loudly.

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin." She awarded. "You, the meaning of green?"

Another arrogant Slytherin boy, Blaise Zabini, gave a cocky grin.

"Half bloods, mixture of blue and yellow gives green." He said.

"Another five points to Slytherin." Narcissa said. "So why do certain students wear these colours? Because we are at war, gone are the days where any student can wonder into Hogwarts and learn magic, they must constantly prove that they are worthy, each marries their own, our children shall not mingle."

Everyone in the class shivered nervously as her steely gaze looked over them critically.

"Make no mistakes, Mudblood, Half-bloods, blood traitors. You are not welcome here, you exist simply because like every other creature, we need a simple, subservient working class." She told them. "I have house elves who I consider to be more worthy. Open your textbooks, page thirteen, start writing."

When they class was over, and they were allowed to leave, most of the yellow and red armband students lingered together, a few greens making the choice to follow their pureblood peers in an attempt to be socially accepted. Lylah was torn between staying with a pale Daisy and red-faced Ron, or following the others to make friends that would please her Uncle, it was Hermione Prewitt's hands clutching onto her arm that kept her with the Muggleborn students.

"She can't be allowed to make us feel like something she would scrape off the bottom of her shoe." Hermione was ranting, her previously failed courage returned viciously as she kicked at a statue in the halls, biting back curses as she then hopped around on a bruised foot.

"She no doubt has a bevy of Muggleborns to scrape her shoes clean." Ron muttered angrily, helping Daisy to walk down the hall, as far away from the classroom as they could get.

"She's certainly a lot like her sister." Daisy managed to stammer, colour returning to her cheeks the further away from Narcissa they got.

"Felt good though." Ron muttered. "Watching that git Malfoy get the stuffing knocked out of him, serves him right, his own mother too."

"Tell me your mother never hit you before." Hermione snapped.

"She had a broom she used to wallop me with." Ron admitted. "Left me buttocks too numb to sit on."

"My Gran is a fierce woman." Daisy joined in.

"What about your mum?" Ron asked Lylah, who was trying to shy away.

"She died when I was a baby." Lylah shrugged. "But my Uncle, he never hit me, throws things when he's angry, but he would never strike me."

"Somehow, I don't think he's above violence against children." Hermione said darkly.

Together they walked to lunch, as they passed a flyer, Ron suddenly stopped and backtracked, almost dropping Daisy to the ground.

"Oi, you seen this?" He asked. "Flying lessons week after next, excellent."

"They were all around the common room this morning." Hermione informed him. "I thought that the flying instructor Madame Hooch retired."

"Last year." Lylah nodded in affirmation, having been fond of the stern lady. "I wonder who they got to teach us."

"You can ask your Uncle can't you?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Why don't you ask him?" Lylah retorted, making on blush, then pale in fear, and the other girls laugh at his expression.

"I don't think we should _have_ to take flying lessons." Hermione muttered annoyed.

"Just because you can't learn it from a book." Ron teased.

"That's not the point." Hermione cried. "The Slytherins are just going to get praised for how natural they are at flying, while the rest of us will probably get pushed off our brooms by the teacher for being 'inferior'."

"They don't all play favourites." Lylah spoke up. "McGonagall didn't."

"McGonagall hates all students equally." Ron pointed out, making them laugh bitterly.

"Flitwick is nice." Daisy said quietly. "But they don't want to stand up for us."

They walked quietly together, bonding over their misery.

The next morning at breakfast, a large barn owl landed in front of Lylah, nibbling on her bacon while she took the rolled up newspaper from its leg, eagerly meeting her Uncle's eyes, Snape returned her beaming smile with a curt nod and resumed his conversation with Headmaster Black while Lylah unfurled The Daily Prophet.

"I don't believe it." She exclaimed, attracting the attention of Ron and Hermione on either side of her.

"Someone broke into Gringotts." Ron scoffed. "They'd be crazy. No escaping that place."

"I read about Gringotts." Hermione announced. "It's supposed to be impossible to rob."

"Well whoever it was, got in and out." Lylah read. "But the vault in question had been emptied earlier that day."

"What day was that?" Ron asked, mouth full of eggs.

"My birthday." Lylah read, frowning as she recalled her own excursion to Gringotts, and frowning as she recalled meeting Voldemort. Scanning the Head Table, Lylah felt a stab of fear as she saw the Dark Lord, looking straight at her.

"Did you do your Transfiguration homework?" Ron nudged her, breaking the momentary eye contact, and Lylah shook her head as she dug through her bag to produce the roll of parchment for Ron to copy hastily while Hermione chided him.

When Lylah looked back to the head table, Voldemort was gone.

In Transfiguration, McGonagall had them attempting their first transformation, turning a matchstick into a needle and by the end of the class to most progress made was Hermione turning her match stick silver and slightly pointy, earning a few rare points for Gryffindor.

The arrival of a long awaited weekend was met happily by most students, the first years especially, the chance to shed their bulky robes and wear casual muggle clothing however, became another hurdle.

While most of the Gryffindor students had been raised in mixed blood households, Lylah had been raised as a proper lady by her Uncle, who otherwise had little contact with females. Where the other girls were happy to slip into jeans and sweaters to brave the approaching cold, Lylah carefully put on a soft velvet dress, lined with lace, keeping her legs warm in thick stockings and an overcoat that same colour as her dark hair, which she allowed to hang free for once in curls.

"What are you wearing?" Lavender Brown was a snooty half-blood who thought herself superior to the Muggleborn students, it seemed that her emotions simply drifted between laughing hysterically, and crying hysterically, as well as swooning over male teen models in her Witch Weekly, which she was somehow having smuggled into Hogwarts.

Lylah ignored the girl, who had previously avoided her until she realised that Lylah's Uncle would show no open favour of his niece in the name of professionalism, since them, Lavender had become relentless in her sharp barbs aimed at all aspects of Lylah's appearance and personality.

"What's wrong with my dress?" Lylah made sure to square her shoulders and stand straight.

"It's _green_." Lavender sneered. "You look like you belong with the other snakes. Oh wait, that's right, you are a snake." She stomped down the stairs.

"I think you look pretty." Daisy emerged from the bathroom then, also wearing jeans and a sweater. "You look like a doll."

"Do you, maybe, have some pants I could borrow?" Lylah asked hesitantly, twisting the hem of her dress in her hands.

"I do." Daisy dug through her trunk and pulled out some pants. "But I think you look better that way, and won't other girls be wearing the same thing?"

"Okay." Lylah nodded and allowed the other girl to lead her into the common room, where mostly people had dressed comfortably, some even still in their robes.

"Wow." Hermione Prewitt looked at Lylah through narrowed eyes. "I have an adopted sister who wears similar clothes, but you look really nice."

"I don't own pants." Lylah admitted, shrugging a little.

"Well little Snape." Fred and George sidled up to her, pressing in from either side.

"You look-"

"To be-"

"A little Lady."

"Much better than the silly girls walking around." Their eyes followed an older student who was wearing a midriff shirt.

"We haven't introduced ourselves properly." One of them held out a hand for her to shake.

"I'm Fred." One introduced

"And He's George." The other piped up.

Lylah laughed at their introduction, ducking away as Ron came to rescue her from his brothers, Hermione trailing as they made their way down to breakfast, and as Daisy had predicted, there were plenty of Pureblood girls wearing proper dresses and tights as they had been raised to do.

After a hasty breakfast and plans to explore the grounds, Hermione, Ron and Lylah set off, Lylah's actions abruptly halted by a hand on her shoulder.

"Uncle Sev." She smiled at her Uncle.

"Perhaps, this afternoon, we could have tea?" He suggested.

Lylah nodded eagerly in agreement. "That'd be great, I have so many stories."

"My study after lunch then?"

Happily, she skipped away to where her friends waited, looking nervous but happy as she led the way out onto the grounds.

Down by the lake, they removed their socks and stockings and hesitantly dipped their toes in the chilly water, shrieking as shadows danced in the murky depths and they competed to see who could wade out the furthest, Ron winning when he fell face forward into the water with a smack. A sixth-year Gryffindor passing by was kind enough to dry him off magically and caution them away from a particular tree.

They raced each other over a grassy hill, stopping to admire the view of Hogwarts they could see from a distance, the great towers reaching towards the sky.

When the time for lunch came, they unwillingly dragged themselves to the Great Hall where like always the tables were heavy with lunch food and the students spoke excitedly. When they were done eating, Hermione dragged Ron away to study while Lylah made her way down to the dungeons, following her memories as a little girl visiting Hogwarts to find her Uncle's rooms, but still managing to get lost.

"I trust you had a good first week?" Lylah jumped as her Uncle swept down the corridor behind her, leading the way to a door that was concealed in the wall.

"It was interesting." Lylah chose her words carefully.

"I gather you had no problems?" Snape asked just as carefully as he led the way to a study, where between two cushy armchairs, a steaming pot of tea was waiting for them.

"I enjoyed my subjects. And I've made friends." She explained, blowing on her tea before sipping.

"You enjoyed your subjects? What about the classes themselves?" Snape asked as he added to his tea from a little hip flask.

"My teachers are a little zealous." Lylah admitted. "My Potions Professor is a monster, he's horrible?" She teased, making him smile slightly.

"What of the Dark Arts?" He quickly grew serious.

"You mean has Lestrange tortured anyone else lately?" Lylah said. "We're all too scared to disobey her."

"At least you are learning." Snape pointed out.

"I'm learning that in this world, my friends mean nothing and I should walk all over people to get my own way." Lylah protested. "What would my parents have thought of this?"

"They don't think. They are dead." He said bluntly. "And your friends should be grateful that Our Lord allows them to learn at this school, with the people, such as yourself, who are truly deserving of such an education."

"Those people, who should be grateful, they're my friends." Lylah announced. "And I'm lucky to have them."

"I believe it's time this conversation was ended." Snape said. "In other news, I am glad to see you decided against conforming to the dismal state of dress the other students engage in."

"Like a doll." Lylah murmured, running her hands along the green velvet of her dress.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, but Uncle, may I ask for something?" She asked. "I'd like some different clothes, not like the others, but maybe some nice slacks."

"You have plenty of clothes." Her Uncle cut her short. "I will reconsider your request when you are older. Are the other students giving you trouble?"

Lylah shook her head silently, and drained the last of her tea.

"I really must be going, I have study." She excused herself, smoothing out her dress as she should.

"I will escort you to your common room." Snape stood as well, offering his arm. Lylah was still for a moment before sighing and putting her hand on his arm, letting him lead her through the hallways and up the stairs of the Gryffindor tower until they stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I know, at times I may be unreasonable." Snape told her. "But I have only your best interests at heart, and this is unfamiliar territory, as you are my daughter in every way, and perhaps it would have been better, should you have had a woman in your life as well, but I believe you will be fine."

"I don't want you to think I'm not grateful." Lylah told him sincerely. "You are a better father than most could hope for."

Snape planted a brief kiss on her forehead in an uncharacteristic moment of tenderness, before his face hardened again and he swept down the hall, snapping at couple of second years, who scrambled to get out of his way.

* * *

secretlovers: In the first chapter, I think I described Voldemort, but you have reminded me to clarify physical descriptions in the future and for that, I thank you.

And has anyone else picked up on how many freakin' flower names JK Rowling used: Lily, Petunia, Rose, Lavender, Pansy, Poppy, Daisy, Florence, Fleur, Lupin, Narcissa, Sprout, Figg, Florean, Igor,Phyllida Spore, Susan, Padma, Spinnet, Oliver Wood, Vernon, Dudley, Myrtle, just to name a few, all have meanings of flowers or plants.


	3. Dives, Diaries, Daggers and Dark Halls

Now, while you might be tempted to question some of the things that happen in this chapter, everything will come back around, everything I mention is pretty important, even if it slips your notice, cause that's what it's meant to do. Don't worry if some things don't make sense, and I tell you this cause if I forget soemthing, I'm covering my own ass. Some things might not occur for a while, and while once I establish the while basis for this story I might breeze past second and third year, I won't totally disregard it because our main characters are children and children need to grow and mature.

On another note, I love all you people who took note of my immature irritation and reviewed, **I love you guys!** I don't love the people who add this story to alert or favourites and don't review, that's like going to a birthday party and not taking a present, party poopers.

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To the relief of some, and disappointment of many others, their flying instructor was a elderly man named Professor Blathnat, who peered at the students through thick glasses and mixed up their names. The lesson began on the Quidditch Pitch out in the warm sunshine, the class being made up of the entire first year class. The brooms themselves, lined up neatly, were outdated and damaged, good for hovering and not much else, the first years themselves were equal parts nervous and excited, and Hermione Prewitt was furiously reading a book on Flying Practices in the hope that book smarts could still be applied to the exercise ahead.

"You follow Quidditch?" Ron asked Lylah eagerly as they stood around, listening for their names to be called on the Professor's roll.

"Not much, my Uncle took me to a few games, and we went to the last World Cup together, but I wasn't much of a fan." She explained, raising a hand as her name was called.

"I support the Chudley Cannons." Ron said proudly. "Got posters all over my room at home."

"I'm sure the orange goes nicely with your hair." Lylah teased lightly.

"Now, students." Professor Blathnat secured a padded helmet over his greying hair, sending his glasses askew. "Stand by a broom."

They rushed to secure a spot by a less battered broom, Ron pulling Lylah behind him and standing her next to a Cleansweep that looked better than the others, but was still missing straw from the end.

Down the row, Draco Malfoy could be heard loudly boasting about his flying skills one minute before complaining about the state of the school brooms and how his father was going to send him a racing broom.

"Bit like a broken record that one." Ron commented, making Lylah and Hermione giggle.

"Is Daisy alright?" Hermione asked, the three of them looked down at where Daisy was pale and trembling.

"I don't think these brooms are going anywhere." Lylah placated the other girl, listening as Blathnat began issuing instructions.

"Put your right hand out, over your broom and say 'up'." He instructed, nervously, the first years exchanged confused looks as they held out their hands and commanded the brooms.

"Up. Up. Up. Up!" Ron's broom shot up, a little too fast for it missed his hand and smacked into his forehead, falling down to the ground again. Hermione's broom rolled around on the ground despite her persistent orders, and Lylah watched the others efforts for a moment before holding out her hand.

"Up." The broom leapt into her hand on the first command, startling her for a moment.

"Well done Miss. Zinnia." Blathnat commended Lylah. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Lylah didn't even bother to correct him on his use of the wrong name, rather, she focused on the feeling of the broom in her hands, positive she could already feel the wind whipping around her at a high altitude.

"Mount your brooms!" Blathnat called, and Lylah, like her classmates, swung her leg over the broom, resting her feet on the ground, gripping the handle tightly.

"You okay Daisy?" Lylah called across to the plump girl, who nodded frantically and readjusted her grip on her old broom.

"On my whistle then." Blathnat called. "Shove off the ground _lightly_." He stressed the lightly part, but Lylah could still see Malfoy giving his fellow Slytherins a cocky grin that made her nervous. "One, two,"

Before he could bring the whistle to his mouth, nervous Daisy shoved as hard as she could off the ground, shooting up into the air.

"Miss. Harrington!" Blathnat yelled as Daisy began to head towards the towers, clinging onto her broom tightly and screaming in fear.

"Help her!" Lylah insisted of the pale Professor Blathnat who stepped away from his broom like it was dangerous.

"I'll go fetch the Headmaster." He said. "Everybody stay away from their brooms!"

He took off at a run towards the castle, even while Daisy's broom began to sway with the wind.

"Is someone going to help her?" Hermione asked.

"Malfoy, you're the expert flyer." One Ravenclaw called. "Go talk her down."

"Oh please." Draco scoffed, tossing his blonde head back. "Little fatty can find her own way down."

Lylah, Ron and Hermione watched helplessly as Daisy was tossed back and forth on her broom, and falling at this point would definitely kill her.

"Don't suppose you know a cushioning charm?" Lylah asked Hermione as Daisy slid back and forth on the broom.

"Where are the teachers?" Hermione asked frantically.

"They're still ages away." Lylah shook her head. She looked at the broom in her hands, mind working frantically. "I've ridden a broom before, can't be that hard."

"Lylah, no!" Hermione shrieked, but Lylah had already swung her leg over the broom and pushed off the ground, the pitch disappearing from beneath her feet as she guided the broom with some difficultly towards Daisy, who was crying hysterically.

"Lylah!" She screamed when she saw the other girl. "Help!"

"It's okay Daisy." Lylah told her gently. "I'm going to come closer, just relax and hold on."

Lylah edged her stubborn broom closer, mindful of the how the wind was blowing strongly, she had failed to mention to Hermione that her flying experience had always been with another rider and never more than two feet off the ground. The sheer drop beneath her feet made her dizzy, coupled with a strong gust of wind to almost sweep her sideways into Daisy.

"Can you get on my broom Daisy?" Lylah asked, getting close enough to touch the girl's shoulder. Daisy shook her head frantically and clutched even tighter on the broom.

"I'm scared." She wailed in fear, snot and tears mingling on her face. Lylah looked back and forth between their brooms, trying to decide on whether she could help Daisy guide her broom to the ground, trying to give no mind to just how far down the ground really way.

"Daisy, I'm going to get on your broom, in front of you." Lylah told the other girl, edging closer. "Try to shuffle back, just a little."

Daisy nodded frantically and tried to inch back, shaking as Lylah shifted so she was sitting sideways on her broom. She got as close as she could, their brooms almost touching and as she went to slide onto Daisy's broom, more wind knocked her broom from underneath her. Her fingers stretched out hopelessly to grasp Daisy's broom, splinters digging into her fingertips.

Gritting her teeth through the pain, Lylah tried to drag herself up without pulling the broom into a spiral.

"Look out Daisy!" She called, swinging her feet widely until she was able to catch her foot on the broom near Daisy's hand and mount the broom mid-air, getting seated and waiting for Daisy to wrap her arms around Lylah's midsection.

Lylah began to gently guide the broom back down to the Quidditch Pitch, aware of the crowd that had gathered below, when something seemed to slip from between her and Daisy, small and shiny, hurtling towards the ground.

With Daisy at her back, screaming, Lylah pointed the broom down and pursued the object, hand reaching out to grasp whatever it was before pulling the broom out of the dive, a foot from the ground, toes skimming the grass until she stopped, Daisy falling to the ground in hysteric belief.

"You dropped this." Lylah offered the object she had caught, a silvery marble, to Daisy, who stared at the object in confusion.

"I've no idea what that is, not mine." She said, wiping her streaming nose and eyes on her sleeve.

"Miss. Snape!" McGonagall was striding across the pitch, her emerald robes flapping furiously in the wind, but her pointed hat oddly still. "Come with me at once."

Lylah was given sympathetic looks from her classmates as McGonagall led her through the castle, stopping outside what Lylah recognised at Quirrell's Defence and Duelling class.

"Professor, may I have Wood for a moment." She requested politely, confusing Lylah who was unsure about what sort of punishment McGonagall was arranging for her.

Wood turned out to be a broad shouldered Gryffindor, who eyed Lylah with the same confusion before facing McGonagall, who strangely smiled at the young man.

"Wood, I've found you a seeker." She declared.

"Her?" Wood asked in confusion.

"Me?" Lylah blurted out, just as confused.

"Miss Snape caught a foreign object free falling and pulled out of a hundred meter dive with inches to spare." McGonagall boasted. "I believe she would be perfect."

"But Madam." Lylah interrupted. "I'm a first year, we aren't allowed to play Quidditch."

"I can make arrangements with the Headmaster." McGonagall promised. "It seems you are a natural flyer Miss. Snape."

"My Uncle would never give permission." Lylah sighed in defeat, knowing his reaction to the stunt she had pulled, rescuing Daisy.

"I will handle him as well." McGonagall promised. "Wood, practice with Miss. Snape tonight and we will make the arrangements." She walked away, leaving the two of them standing there awkwardly.

"I'm Lylah." She eventually introduced.

"Oliver." He held out a hand for her to shake, which she did, noticing the calluses on his palms and starting to worry slightly about McGonagall's plans. "So practice is after dinner, I'll fetch you." Oliver explained.

Lylah nodded, still slightly shell-shocked as Oliver returned to class, in daze she walked down the hallway, only to almost collide with her enraged Uncle. He said nothing, taking her upper arm in a vice grip and marching her down to the dungeons where he sat her in his study and began his rant.

"What in Merlin's name did you think you were doing?" He questioned as he paced back and forth. "You think that rescuing that stupid Pembleton girl is worth risking your life? It was a stupid, stupid, dangerous decision that lacks the depth and maturity that you possess-"

"Severus." They both turned in surprise to see Voldemort there, red eyes gleaming brightly in the darkness, Lylah shifting in her seat as her Uncle unconsciously stepped back. "The girl should be commended on her valiant effort to rescue a fellow schoolmate, no matter how suicidal the act seemed at the time. She certainly shows how she earned her place in Gryffindor."

Lylah cast her eyes to the ground, not having the nerve to raise her head and meet the Dark Lord's eyes.

"My Lord, your words are kind, but her actions are less about bravery and more about lack of self preservation." Snape almost snarled it, bordering on disrespectful as he rounded on his niece again.

"That may be so." Voldemort said smoothly. "However a request for her to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team has been submitted to the Headmaster and I find myself in favour of this move."

Snape looked as though he wanted nothing more than to curse the Dark Lord at that moment. Instead, he placed a hand on Lylah's shoulder.

"Perhaps maybe next year, or the year after." He suggested. "There is a reason first years do not place Quidditch."

"Rules that are left over from that fool Dumbledore." Voldemort dismissed Snape's concerns. "She will play for the team, pending the results of her practice session with the Gryffindor team tonight."

The name he mentioned piqued Lylah's interest, the familiarity of it, but her curiosity was quickly squashed by the rage in her Uncle's eyes. Voldemort dismissed her then, regardless of her Uncle's intention to continue his tirade, meekly she scampered from his rooms and up into the Great Hall where lunch was being severed. Most of the students believed that she was being punished for flying off to help Daisy, and jeered as she walked quickly to the Gryffindor table to sit between Ron and Hermione.

"Where's Daisy?" Lylah asked as she began to select from the assortment of sandwich on the table.

"Hospital Wing, being treated for shock." Hermione explained. "Are they expelling you?"

"I heard You-Know-Who was personally going to torture you." Ron said through a mouthful of half chewed food.

Lylah grimaced as food flew from his mouth.

"They want me to join the Quidditch Team." She said quietly. Both Ron and Hermione stared open-mouthed at her.

"Bloody hell." Ron gasped. "You'd be what, a chaser?"

"Seeker." Lylah recalled McGonagall saying. "I have to practice with the team tonight and the Dark Lord came and spoke to my Uncle." She shivered as she remembered the man's presence.

"Fred and George are on the team." Ron boasted. "Beaters."

"That's right." From nowhere, Fred and George swooped down.

"Heard about your,"

"Little misadventure."

"Thought McGonagall would've"

"Killed you or something."

"See you at practice!"

Just as quickly as they came, they were gone again, leaving Lylah, Ron and Hermione baffled by their visit.

"Well, we'll see how tonight goes." Lylah shrugged.

"Can we come watch?" Ron asked.

"I don't know." Lylah said. "You'd have to ask Wood."

"Oliver Wood, Gryffindor captain." Ron explained for a bewildered Hermione, who shook her head.

"You won't have as much study time once you start practicing." Hermione complained.

"It'll be fine" Lylah shook her head. "We better hurry, Uncle Sev's going to be in a foul mood in Potions. He'll skin us if we're late."

Ron looked horrified, but scrambled from his seat to follow the girls down to Potions, the rest of the class catching on when they saw them leave the Great Hall and following them in haste.

Lylah barely touched her dinner later that night, trembling in both nervousness and anticipation.

"You have to eat something." Hermione dumped another spoonful of mashed potatoes on her plate.

"This is silly, I can't play Quidditch." Lylah shook her head. "I'll just tell them it's a mistake."

"You'll be fine, just dodge the bludgers." Ron advised. "You have a broom."

"Wood said he'd lend me his spare." Lylah explained. "He said they'd be better than the school brooms."

"Those things were full of splinters." Ron winced at the memory.

"Ready to go then?" They turned to see Oliver Wood standing there, looking almost excited. "You two can come watch if you want." He invited of Ron and Hermione, while Ron almost tripped on his robes in his eagerness to follow, Hermione took a little more convincing before she followed them down to the pitch.

Now the sun had fallen, the Quidditch Pitch was lit up by enchantments, up in the air Lylah could see the red headed Weasley twins hitting something back and forth between them with clubs, while another three people were shooting around on their brooms, ducking and weaving as they threw a bright scarlet ball between them.

"You know some of the rules then?" Wood asked as he handed Lylah protective pads.

"Ron explained most of the basics." Lylah nodded.

"Okay, well our Beaters you can see are the Weasley twins." Oliver pointed them out. "Our Chasers are Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Girls make for good chasers cause they can move more agilely."

"So you're the Keeper?" Lylah deduced.

"That's right." Oliver said proudly. "This is a stand issue Snitch." He held out the small gold ball for her inspection. As soon as she touched it, it sprouted wings and began flapping furiously, darting away from her and through the air so fast it blurred from sight.

"Is it always that fast?" Lylah asked.

"As the Seeker, it's your job to catch it. Catch that and the game's over." Wood told her, handing her his spare broom, which she mounted automatically. "Let's get some idea of what you can do."

Flying again, for Lylah, was less nerve-wracking than the first time, and she easily moved through the air, circling the pitch a few times and being weary of the boundaries. It took her only moments to catch a glimmer of gold by the goal post and she dived after it quickly, circling a few times before spiralling the broom around grasping the Snitch, shoving Oliver who whooped in delight. He made her chase after it several more times, showing her manoeuvres she could perform and how to feint a dive to throw off the other Seeker, and then how to best dodge the Bludgers when they came her way.

By the end of practice, everyone was muddy and tired, but Wood was still exclaiming excitedly about their new Seeker, advising her about what kind of broom to buy and where she could get a Quidditch uniform.

Ron and Hermione were also excited, although Hermione was a lot more reserved about it, occasionally reminding Lylah that her schoolwork still had priority over Quidditch.

The next morning, hushed into secrecy by Wood, the Gryffindor team remained quiet about their newly discovered Seeker, Lylah sitting between Ron and Hermione as per normal, when Draco Malfoy sauntered over to their table, holding a slim book between his hands.

"Well, well, Little Snape and her sidekicks." He taunted, shooting a glare at Daisy, who was still shaken from her flying encounter.

"Malfoy." Lylah nodded in acknowledgments. "You seem to have slithered away from your table. Shall I point you in the right direction?"

"That's my diary!" Daisy suddenly yelled, pointing at the book in smirking Malfoy's hands. People from the Gryffindor table looked over, but when they saw the Pureblood holding it, they hastily looked down at their breakfast, unwilling to risk the teachers wrath for a first year.

"I'm willing to offer you a trade." Malfoy offered. "You want the book so badly, come get it. At midnight tonight in the Astronomy Tower."

"You're crazy." Hermione shook her head. "Why there and then?"

"Well." He leaned in close and said quietly. "You're going to help me to take something, or else this secrets in this," He shook the diary threateningly. "May just become public knowledge."

He smirked again and returned to the Slytherin table, holding the book as a threat.

Daisy began to wail. "I can't have anyone reading that!"

"Straying out after curfew, You-Know-Who will kill us." Ron moaned.

"What kind of things are written in there Daisy?" Lylah asked the blonde, who began to cry.

"Everything, it was a present from my Gran, I've had it since I was little." Daisy explained, looking pale again. "I write about everyone. So many people would try to kill me if it got out."

"We should go to a teacher." Hermione insisted. "What about your Uncle?"

Lylah shook her head. "He's mad enough as it is, and he'd never go against his Slytherins."

"McGonagall then?" Hermione suggested, all four of them turning to see the Professor in question yelling at a student with untied laces. "Or not."

"What does Malfoy want us to help take from the Astronomy Tower?" Lylah questioned. "Astronomy lessons don't start until after Halloween."

"Probably some Dark Artefact." Ron muttered sullenly.

"What's to say he won't give us the diary back, or tell everyone what he read?" Hermione asked.

"There's a forget-me spell on it." Daisy revealed. "Unless he has the diary, he can't reveal the secrets in it to everyone."

Ron almost looked excited about sneaking out, while Hermione put her head in her hands.

"We are going to be expelled." She moaned.

"My Uncle is going to kill me." Lylah said in disbelief.

That night, they threw cloaks over their pyjamas and tiptoed down the common room, which was lit by the glowing coals of the dying fire. Ron stumbled down from the boys dormitory looked petrified in his too small pyjamas as they opened the portrait of the Fat Lady and slipped out into the dark hall.

Daisy followed the three of them a little more hesitantly, squeaking at every noise she heard and often running into them as they ducked around corners. By the time they reached the base of the Astronomy Tower, their nerves were racked as every sound was misinterpreted to be a teacher waiting to catch them.

They raced up the stairs, tripping more than once on their cloaks and climbed through a trapdoor into the classroom, clinging together as they moved through the dark room, bumping into desks and Daisy almost knocking over a large model of the solar system. The classroom opened out onto an observation deck where is a shaft of moonlight, Draco Malfoy stood waiting.

"So, you decided to come." He eyed what they were wearing and shook his head.

"We're here, give us the book." Lylah demanded.

"Not until you help me with something." Malfoy demanded. "In this room is a knife, but its spelled to be unseen by anyone who wishes to use it."

"So you need four of us to find it?" Lylah said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Why not have one of your cronies help you."

"There's the catch." Malfoy said. "The Headmaster before Carrow hid it, away from Pureblood eyes, you have to be tainted and yet pure to find it."

"Hands that have not touched death and have no intentions." Lylah finished, "I read about that spell in one of my Uncle's books. What are you planning on doing with that knife."

"I have an 'investor' if you will, who needs that knife and is willing to pay money for it." Malfoy told them arrogantly. "Find it and you can have Fatty's book back. If not." He dangled the diary over the edge of the tower, above the sheer plummet to the ground. "Whoever finds it can read all about Fatty's infatuation with-"

"Shut up Malfoy, you stupid git." Ron interrupted for Daisy's sake.

"Alright, that's enough." Hermione snapped. "I'm the only one who's going to be able to find the knife, aren't I?"

That comment made Malfoy stagger slightly.

"Yeah." Ron added. "We're all Pureblood too." He motioned to Lylah, Daisy and himself.

"Well, get looking then Mudblood." Malfoy snapped at Hermione, making her blush furiously.

Hermione began to look, searching in all the obvious places and coming up with nothing, an hour passed with no success and they others unable to help, Daisy growing frantic and Malfoy impatient, when something bright caught Lylah's eye. Turning towards it, there was nothing, but when she looked away again, the light danced in the corner of her eye.

"Hermione." She gestured for the girl to come closer. "Have you looked behind this tapestry."

Hermione frowned, but moved closer, lifting the heavy fabric away from the wall and blinking when she lifted a box from a hollow in the stone. The box itself was wood, inlaid with jewels and bared a heavy lock.

"That's it." Malfoy exclaimed, throwing Daisy's diary in the air behind him as he closed in on it. "Where's the key?" He asked, looking at them conspiratorially.

"There was just the box." Hermione said, looking at the lock curiously.

"Well, look for a key!" Malfoy yelled.

"Shut up." Lylah snapped, gesturing for silence, they all exchanged looks of horror when they heard the sound of footsteps on the stone steps.

"Quick, over here." Hermione gestured to a heavy curtain and they all ducked behind it, though not before Malfoy had given them all a look of disgust, carrying the box as though it were a child.

The trapdoor creaked as it opened, and a figure in a dark cloak could be seen entering the room through a gap in the curtain, though which the five of them peered. The figure kept their face hidden, going through the room quickly, venturing out onto the observation deck. Lylah eyed the open trapdoor.

"Go." She whispered, sending Ron and Malfoy sprinting across the room and down the trapdoor, followed by Daisy. Hermione staggered slightly as she ran, leaving Lylah to wait until the coast was clear. Ducking across the room, she was horrified as her foot clipped the same model solar system that Daisy had almost sent flying, this time it came crashing down to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Run!" Someone yelled and the five of them almost fell over each other in their attempt to sprint down the Astronomy Tower stairs, spilling out into the hall and running flat out. Malfoy yelped as he dropped the box, but it remained intact, Lylah scooping it up and encouraging them to keep running.

"Down there!" Someone could be heard yelling, and in a panic, they tried to get through the nearest door with no success.

"Get out of the way." Hermione shoved past the boys. "_Alohomora." _

The door opened and they all slipped in to the dark room. Lylah turned back to the open door and pointed her own wand at it.

"_Colloportus._" She cast, the lock glowing and sealing shut. She looked at Malfoy's box in her hands, shuffling it into her robes while they examined where they were.

"What is this place?" Daisy asked, scuffing her feet on the dusty stones as they walked.

"It looks like a whole other wing of Hogwarts." Hermione noted.

"It is." Malfoy snapped. "They closed it when less students started attending Hogwarts, it's basic knowledge we're not meant to be here."

"Guess they didn't count on Hermione's unlocking charm." Lylah noted.

"What was that sealing charm you did?" Hermione asked curiously as they inspected the hall.

"My House Elf taught it to me, to seal my room against my Uncle's snooping." Lylah admitted.

"You used magic outside of Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned. Lylah was saved of explanation by Malfoy approaching her.

"My box please." He demanded, holding out his hand. Lylah turned and fumbled through her robes, muttering irately as she managed to extract the box and hand it to him. "Unlock it." Both Hermione and Lylah scoffed at his command, moving along to join Ron and Daisy further down the end of the hall, which was closed in almost complete darkness.

A strong wind ruffled their robes as they ventured down a little further, when it got too dark, they pulled their wands from their robes.

"_Lumos_." When their wand tips were lit, they found the source of the wind.

"Run." Lylah shoved as they started screaming, the large three headed dog before them stirred from its sleep, blinking sleepily as it regarded them before bearing feral, sharp teeth.

They ran. Scrambling to reach the door as the dog began to bound after them, paws scrabbling on slick stones.

"Open the door." Ron called to Hermione as she almost collided with the door, dropping her wand in a panic.

"_Alohomora._" Lylah threw the charm at the lock and the five of them spilled out, pulling the door shut behind them with some difficulty and Lylah locking it again to be safe. To their relief, the hall was empty and they began to carefully make their way back to the common room, Malfoy departing without a word to any of them.

While Daisy stammered excuses and went straight to bed, clutching her diary to her chest, Ron, Lylah and Hermione slumped down on chairs in the common room, still dazed from the nights adventure.

"What do you think Malfoy wanted that knife for so badly?" Hermione asked. "It has to be very dark if he wanted it."

"Well." Lylah reached into her robes and pulled out the knife she'd taken from the box in the confusion, stashed in her pocket. Putting on a table between them, they examined it, the green and purple jewels inlaid along the hilt, the sharp metal that shimmered.

"We should give this to a teacher." Hermione instantly said. Ron and Lylah gave her bewildered looks.

"Are you going to tell them where we found it?" Lylah asked incredulously. "Look, I'll hold onto it, won't take Malfoy long to realise he doesn't have it."

"What about that three headed dog?" Ron asked, looking shaken.

"It was standing on a trapdoor." Hermione pointed out. "I saw it when I dropped my wand."

"Why would there be a trapdoor in the middle of a hallway that no one uses?" Lylah questioned. "Makes no sense."

"I didn't know there were such things as three legged dogs." Ron said.

"Cerberus." Lylah said suddenly, making them both look at her. "In Greek mythology, Cerberus was a three headed dog that guarded the gate of Hades, to prevent those who had crossed the River Styx from escaping." She explained.

"A dog who guards the gates of hell, in a school?" Hermione questioned, looking annoyed that she didn't have the answers.

"There must be something down there." Lylah mused, intrigued by the whole situation. On the mantle above the fire, a clock chimed in the early hours of the morning, startling them.

"We should get some sleep." Hermione mused, still looking frustrated and taking her advice, they parted ways.

Up in the dormitory, Lylah stashed the knife in her trunk under a pile of dresses, the chiffon, lace and velvet providing a soft resting place. As she covered the gleaming metal, another object caught her eye and from underneath some books, Lylah extracted her old plush rabbit, missing an eye and ratty from the love and devotion of a child, and where there should have been an ear was a neat line of stitches to keep the stuffing from bulging out, she'd had many other toys as a child, but this one had been hers for as long as she could remember.

She climbed into bed, still holding the bunny and with her mind still racing as her thoughts danced from Malfoy and his knife to the three headed dog standing on a trap door, and when it became clear she would not fall asleep soon, she clutched her bunny tighter and tried to remember the parents whose faces she couldn't quite picture.

* * *

Just so we're clear, Snape raised Lylah, but given that she doesn't have a female adult figure and he's probably hopeless when it comes to pre-teen girls, they both have difficulties handling each other, and like other fics have portrayed families like the Malfoys, while they might be stiff and indifferent around each other, they do love each other in a father-daugther way very dearly and that should become apparent later on. I also wanted to make it clear that Snape was a spy in the first war, so he's sneaky, and so is she. Sneaky. (I love that word)

**Review!**


	4. Slippery Sights

I love my reviewers.

This one was a little later than most because I just spent a few days in hospital. Nothing kills creativity like the smell of a hospital. I apologise for any obvious spelling errors, I'm lazy/drugged/asleep.

* * *

A hand wrapped around her arm in a vice grip, drew Lylah into an alcove as she made her way to Transfiguration the next morning.

"I know you have it Snape." Draco Malfoy hissed in her ear. "Where's the knife?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lylah yanked her arm away, joining the crowd again.

"Don't think I don't know you have it." Malfoy told her as he walked beside her.

"I think you're paranoid." Lylah told him, resisting the urge to stomp on his foot as she entered the Transfiguration room and sat down next to Hermione, who gave her a concerned glance. Malfoy sat behind her, and for the entire lesson, Lylah could feel his eyes on the back of her head.

In an attempt to avoid Malfoy, who was intend on pursuing her every step, Lylah ducked into a girls bathroom in between classes, with a confused Hermione following and Ron waiting outside placidly until they emerged moments before class was meant to begin.

Instead of lunch, Lylah, along with a disgruntled Ron and delighted Hermione hid out in the Library where they were hushed every five minutes by the stern librarian and she had to take an extra long route to get to Quidditch practice, which was especially tense given that their first match against Slytherin was fast approaching.

After Potions, in which a livid Snape criticized their every action and by the time they entered the Charms classroom, nobody was in high spirits. Flitwick however, was typically cheerful and greeted them with enthusiasm.

"Today we will be practicing the levitating spell, now remember the swish and flick movements and the pronunciation, _wingardium leviosa._" Flitwick squeaked at them as they received from him a single white feather.

Following his instructions, they all turned their wands on their practice feathers and began to enunciate the incantations, stressing particular vowels. Hermione was rebuffed in her attempt to correct Ron, and in turn perfectly cast the spell and beamed smugly as her feather began to levitate above the classroom.

"I mean did you hear her?" Ron complained as they crossed the courtyard, his mouth was set in a scowl and he was loudly making no attempt to conceal his dislike of Hermione Prewitt. "It's _Win-gard-ium Levi-osa. _Not _Levio-sa._" He mocked bitterly, even as Hermione shoved her way past him, tears in her eyes.

"I think she heard you." One of the Gryffindor boys noted carelessly, and Lylah felt torn as Hermione rushed away and her peers taunted her.

"You're reaching pretty far if you think yourself to be above her." She told them bitingly as she too, moved away from them and into Herbology.

Later that night, at the Halloween Feast, there was still no sign of Hermione and Ron was acting like he was not to blame. Padma Patil of Ravenclaw took Lylah, who was trying to avoid Malfoy, and led her aside away from the crowd.

"That girl in your house, Hermione. She's in the girl's second floor bathroom." Padma informed Lylah sympathetically, she leaned in closer conspiratorially. "And Lestrange is on patrol."

Lylah instantly understood the girl's warning and momentarily decided between having no part of Lestrange's anger towards those who strayed from the Feast, and rescuing Hermione from the Professor's wrath. She was saved from making the decision by the panicked shouts of Professor Quirrell, sounding through the Great Hall, and the screams of the students, who began to pour out of the Great Hall.

"What's going on?" Lylah grabbed a fellow first year, a Ravenclaw who looked pale.

"There's a troll in the dungeons." She exclaimed, snatching her arm away from Lylah and running back to her friends who gathered together as they headed back to their common room.

Lylah instantly turned, racing down the stairs, which were rapidly shifting to accommodate the stampeding students, heading up the second corridor to where she knew the girl's bathroom was.

"Hermione?" She called, pulling out her wand and lighting it so she could see in the dim stalls.

"Go away." She called, her voice thick with tears as she choked back sobs.

"Hermione, we really need to go." Lylah stressed, as the bathroom door banged open and Ron rushed in, looking red in the face.

"Oi, what are you doing in here?" He demanded to know. "There's a troll in the castle."

"A troll?" Hermione emerged from a stall, face puffy and red from crying, looking worried.

"It's in the dungeons." Lylah explained. "But we should get back to the common room."

As soon as the words left her lips, they heard the slow shuffling steps of something heavy and awkward, smelt the repugnant smell of rotting earth and decaying meat. Wands in their hands, they turned to face the creature that stood in the doorway of the bathroom, flat face twisted in an undecipherable expression, thick fingered hands wrapped around a heavy club.

"That's the troll." Ron squeaked in fear, hand shaking as he clutched his wand in a white knuckled grip.

"Get back." Hermione ordered, pulling the both of them back by their robes until they were pressed against the sinks, with nowhere to cower as the troll lumbered forward.

"What do we do?" Ron whispered in fear.

"We hope the teachers get lost on their way to the dungeon." Lylah suggested. "Duck!"

The troll swung the club in their direction, giving a great roar that showered them in spittle as they dove out of the way, feeling plaster and marble rain upon them.

"Run!" Ron yelled, trying to shove the two girls towards the door, but the troll stepped in the way, club swinging, managing to knock Ron against the wall and send him slumping to the ground.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, but before they could rush to his aide, the troll stepped between them, bringing his club around again.

Lylah, thinking quickly, waited until the club had swept past, and took a running leap, landing on the club as the troll bought round again. scrambling up his arm, screaming as he moved with deadly speed, she crawled up his arm and began jabbing at him with her wand, unable to think of any spells that could help.

"_Wingardium Leviosa."_ Lylah was tossed from the troll's back as Ron, bleeding from his head, pointed his wand at the troll's club. It hovered above the troll's head from a moment, confusing the creature, until suddenly it dropped down, hitting the top of the troll's head.

The troll swayed for a moment before it began to pitch forward, Hermione reaching out to grab Lylah and pull her from the troll's path, the two of them crawling over to where Ron looked dazed, staring at the fallen creature.

A clattering of footsteps announced the Professor's arrival, Lestrange looking delighted, Snape furious, McGonagall concerned and Black looking annoyed.

"What is this?" Snape snapped as he strode forward, shoving aside Ron and Hermione to gather Lylah in his arms, running his hands over her as to ensure she was well.

"I'm okay!" She insisted, helping Hermione support Ron as he swayed.

"What on earth were you doing?" McGonagall snapped. "Trying to take on a fully grown Mountain Troll, by yourselves?"

"We were just using the bathroom Professor." Lylah explained. "Ron came to get us when we didn't go to the common room."

"You could have been killed." Snape pointed out lividly, a hand on Lylah's shoulder, as he shifted, Lylah felt something slip into her pocket, weighing it down, but remained silent.

"Ron saved us." Hermione confirmed.

Lestrange gave them an appraising look, as if not believing their words, giving Black an imploring look.

"Back to your common room." Black gave a wave of his hand and gratefully, the three of them rushed out of the bathroom, Ron groaning as they practically dragged him up the stairs.

"We really should take him to the Hospital Wing." Hermione examined the cut on Ron's head as they walked. Lylah slipped her hand into her pocket and extracted the potions her uncle had supplied them with.

"Look, a Concussion Potion." Lylah showed the other girl. "Better than anything Promfrey can do."

With Ron groaning between them and an urge to avoid Lestrange, Hermione chose to say nothing or ask about the potion, instead helped Lylah carry their friend into the common room where they gave him the potion and sat with him to wake him every hour just to be safe.

Ron was still complaining the next morning when they stomped down to the Great Hall for breakfast, a miserable cloud cover hanging low and the other students discussing in low tones the event of the night before, as well as the splendour of the interrupted feast. Lylah noted with a bitter taste in her mouth, that Voldemort was present as breakfast, seating in the centre of the High Table eating nothing and turning a cold gaze on the student body. Unlike the other Professors, he opted instead of robes to wear a dark suit, including a black tie, sitting casually as though his presence was the norm.

"First years, listen up." Professor Black called from the dais, looking annoyed that he had to address them. "Today you will be undergoing an interview to determine any abilities that can aide the Dark Lord."

"Oh Merlin, they're going to torture us." Daisy whispered in a panic.

"Don't be silly." An older students comforted her. "You just talk to a Fore-Sight."

"Fore-Sights?" Ron asked. "I thought You-Know-Who killed them all."

"All that he couldn't control." Hermione muttered darkly, glaring into the contents of her goblet as though fascinated.

Black, who looked frustrated at the talking that had broken out, struck his wand upon the dais, the sound ringing loudly in their ears.

"You are to proceed to the High Tower, immediately after breakfast." He ordered, and most people looked nervous at the destination.

"That's where You-Know-Who's office is." Ron explained to a confused Hermione, who didn't know whether to be worried or angry, but still gathered her books when breakfast was over and followed the other first years to the base of the High Tower.

Lylah followed obediently, sitting with the other students, most of whom looked sick to their stomachs, even the Slytherins, choosing to join Hermione in working on homework to pass the time.

"It'll be fine." Hermione made an attempt at reassuring her fellow students, holding out a book in proof. "Fore-Sights don't actually see the future, they see potential."

"Twisted half humans, stripped of the lighter parts of their souls." Someone added.

"It could be worse." Hermione comforted, trying to ease her own nerves with her text books.

"Not helping, Hermione." Lylah told her, shifting uncomfortably.

The Gargoyle that guarded the staircase at the base of the Tower suddenly sprung to life, startling the students. The stone statue gave a great yawn and glared at them before issuing from a fanged mouth.

"Abbott, Hannah." It rasped, the girl looking scared as her friends gently encouraged her towards the stairs, the Gargoyle stepping out of the way to allow her entrance. They all waited with baited breath as Hannah disappeared, and them for the three minutes that she was gone, when she reappeared, looking shaken but unharmed, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and began to pester her with questions about the experience before wishing luck to the next person the Gargoyle summoned, more than one Gryffindor took satisfaction in Malfoy returning, looking shaken, his appearance less than perfect for once.

Several students in, there was a lengthy gap before the student's reappearance, and he was quiet about the experience, moving quickly away from the rest of them, but Lylah had no time to ponder this as Hermione was called to the office. Lylah gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as her friend vanished up the stair case, waiting apprehensively with Ron, who looked as though he was going to be sick, and when Hermione appeared five minutes later, they both rushed to embrace her, Ron a little less enthusiastically about hugging her.

Hermione chose not to linger, not saying anything about her encounter, rather wishing them luck and making excuses about homework and almost an hour later, Lylah's name emanated from the Gargoyle's mouth.

Feeling the pit of her stomach drop, Lylah took heavy steps to the stone case, hesitantly walking forward and feeling her body lurch with the upwards motion of the stairs. Reaching the top, she saw a heavy dark door, embellished with a thick lock, and hand shaking, she tapped her fist against it.

"Enter." Came the cold voice from within, and with shaking hands that betray her fear, Lylah pushed the door open.

At first she thought the room was totally dark, but her eyes soon sought the light, noting several dimly glowing candles around the room which cast thick shadows and kept in minimal glare, the shrouded figure in the middle of the room.

"Sit on the chair." The voice of the Dark Lord, cold and penetrating, sounded from behind her, and Lylah bit back a yelp as she stumbled forward to sit on the chair before the covered figure, noting the veined, wrinkled hands that rested lightly on a black covered table, a rough cloth bag beside them.

"_Rose_." The creature rasped, the voice ever so feminine, the hands darting out to grasp hers tightly.

"My name is Lylah." She corrected, stammering slightly, as she was prone to do in the Dark Lord's presence.

"_Now._" The creature responded, using a hand to upend the ratted bag on the table. A dozen coloured crystals of various sizes spilled out, and Lylah swore they were thrumming with energy, she could taste it on her tongue. "_Oh, yes_." The creature said.

"What?" Lylah asked, feeling trapped and unable to move her hands.

"_This one has potential._" The creature declared and Lylah realised that it spoke not to her, but to Voldemort, who came into view, leaning in close to glare at the Fore-Sight.

"Are you certain?" He asked, voice sharp.

"_She will see the end. Born as the seventh month dies."_ The creature nodded, hands flashing forward and grabbing a black crystal, wrapping Lylah's hands around it. Lylah felt it like it was red hot, burning her hands, and opening her mouth she screamed in fear and pain. Something crawled from the darkness, part of the shadows, to wrap long tendrils through her hair, creep through her clothes, fill her mouth, nose and ears until black shrouded her sight and still screaming in horror, Lylah felt herself falling.

"_I love you Rose._"

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Lylah fought through the fog of sleep to open her eyes to the Hospital wing, blinking several times and frowning when it failed to come into focus.

"Uncle Sev?" She asked, reaching out blindly and feeling something slide up the bridge of her nose. The glasses her uncle had hooked over her ears instantly bought the room into sharp focus, and Lylah frowned as she saw her Uncle looking dark and broody, she almost gave a cry of horror when she saw her gauze wrapped hands.

"The Quidditch Match is next week." She cried, horrified, having found enjoyment in the practice sessions with the Gryffindor team.

"I have assurances from the Medi Witch, that you will be in perfect shape to play." Her uncle informed her. "Aren't you going to ask what happened?"

"I know what happened." Lylah muttered, sinking into the soft pillows. "That Fore-Sight did something to me. Why am I wearing my glasses?"

"The Fore-Sight did a very rough magic cancellation spell." Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose in a gesture that Lylah knew meant he was tired and frustrated. "The spells that cleared your vision, kept you healthy and allowed me to find you, have been removed."

"You have a tracking spell on me?" Lylah questioned, annoyed by this revelation.

"_Had_ a tracking spell on you." Snape corrected. "And yes, ever since you were a baby, better that than having you kidnapped."

"How long before you can re-spell me?" Lylah asked, unsure as to how she should feel about having her movements traced.

"I can do it now, if you like?" Her Uncle offered, drawing his wand from the folds of his robes.

Lylah sat still and allowed him to perform the charms, removing her glasses when her vision was clear and offering them to her Uncle. He tucked them away in his robes and simply observed his niece for a moment, asking if she was in pain or the like. When Lylah began to yawn again, he ordered her to sleep more.

"Uncle Sev?" Lylah asked, taking the Dreamless Sleep potion he offered and drinking it. "The Fore-Sight, it called me Rose. Was it confused? Who's Rose?"

"We'll talk about it when you're older." Snape told her, waiting until her eyes were closed and breathing even before he dropped a kiss on her forehead and barked orders at the Medi Witch in regards to Lylah's care.

When she woke again, it was dark and the hospital wing was quiet, but something had woken her and Lylah sat up, noting her gauze free hands, which were chafed and red as though recently healed from burns, with stiffness in her fingers.

Her legs, although shaky, held her weight, and Lylah took several hesitant steps forward, hearing the sounds of the voices coming from just outside the hospital wing doors.

"You think she's the key?" A voice that Lylah didn't know spoke, close to the doors where Lylah stood, and she ducked to the side, looking through a small crack in the doors at the figures standing there, one who's face was obscured and one, the Dark Lord, who spoke in his cold voice.

"Yes." He said. "She can see, and she will." Lylah heard footsteps coming closer, and scrabbled back into her bed, pulling the sheets higher and screwing her eyes closed, forcing her body to relax as though asleep as the Hospital Wing doors open and light spilled in.

Footsteps bought the visitor close to her bed, before they faded away again and the Hospital Wing doors shut, Lylah breathing a sigh of relief, falling once again into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Ron, Hermione and several others were crowded around her bed, faces displaying a mixture of concern ranging to excited and from the minute Lylah stirred, she was hounded with questions about what had happened with the Fore-Sight. Oliver Wood seemed more interested in whether she would be playing Quidditch the following week and radiating relief when he was assured of her ability to play, he practically skipped from the Hospital Wing. The Weasley twins supplied her with a large amount of get-well candy, which Ron promptly set into, and Hermione offered her the homework she had missed from the previous day, completed and ready to hand in.

When the Medi Witch came around, she banished the crowd of people around Lylah's bed, before declaring the girl able to leave and giving her cream to rub into her stiff hands.

Where Lylah walked, people pointed and whispered and Hermione explained about how she was heard screaming halfway through the castle, about how she was carried to the hospital wing by one of the Professors, and about how her Uncle had left his class without a word and swept into the hospital wing, as though he controlled the place.

The furore had died down when the Quidditch match came around, Gryffindor versus Slytherin and the competition between the two houses resulted in more than one physical altercation breaking out in the halls.

The morning of the match, Lylah awoke to a long, wrapped package at the foot of her bed, and recognising her Uncle's spidery handwriting on the address card, she tore into the brown paper and twine to reveal a shiny broomstick, a Nimbus 2000, which Lylah knew to be an expensive broom.

Dressed in casual robes, she met the rest of the Quidditch team in the Great Hall and together they walked down to the Pitch, most of them eager to examine her broom and throwing tips her way. In the changing room however, they were quiet even as the girl's helped each other to tie their hair back tightly and lace up hard to reach protective pads.

"Nervous Lylah?" Wood asked as they approached the opening to the Quidditch Pitch. She could see ahead the teachers box, complete with Voldemort, and the entering Slytherin team, all burly males with dirty expressions.

"Yeah." She admitted, nodding her head and flexing the fingers on her still stiff hands, hoping she could hold on to her broom for however long the match went. They were in luck that day for the sun was shining and no breeze blew, Lylah had become privy in recent weeks to horror stories of wild weather during Quidditch matches.

A boy Lylah recognised as being friends with Fred and George was commentating on the match, showing blatant favouritism in his introduction of the Gryffindor teams and curious looks were given when he introduced Lylah as a Seeker.

Professor Blathnat was the referee for the match, however he seemed reluctant to approach his broom, let alone join the players in the air and when he blew the whistle to let the Quaffle loose, he stayed three feet from the ground and called the game from below.

As soon as the Snitch was released, it disappeared and the Slytherin Seeker, a flat faced boy with crooked teeth gave Lylah a glare before he began to circle the pitch, Lylah hovering above the other players and dodging the Bludgers sent flying her way from the other team.

Twenty minutes into the match, Gryffindor was leading eighty points to twenty when Wood, the Keeper, took a bludger to the head and fell onto the hot sand, lying still as Slytherin took the opportunity to began scoring rapidly.

A flash of gold caught the corner of Lylah's eye, and angling her broom forward, she shot towards the Gryffindor goal post, keeping her eye on the Snitch, which hovered tantalisingly just out of reach, darting away as Lylah came closer.

She was suddenly slammed into by the Slytherin Seeker, who darted past her as she regained her bearings, quickly following him, trying to slip past him unsuccessfully as he reached for the Snitch.

From nowhere, she caught sight of a Bludger propelling towards them and she dropped down, feeling the splinters of the Slytherin Seeker's broom as he was sent flying into the stand, the Snitch streaking away again. Lylah quickly cast her eyes around the Pitch, paying no mind to the damaged stands, instead she circled above the players, waiting until she caught the flash of gold again, this time in the middle of the Chaser's back and forth motion, Quaffle being rapidly thrown around.

Darting into the middle of the game, Lylah lay flat on her broom, dodging players, Bludgers, Beaters and the Quaffle, reaching out and flying low to the ground, making a last second lunge that sent her flying into the sand of the pitch, closing her eyes as she impacted. Flopping onto her back, she held her hand out in the air, still keeping a tight grip on the Snitch, which was fluttering hopelessly against her hold before the wings folded away in defeat.

"You did it!" The Weasley twins landed first, pulling her from the ground in a blur of movement, one of them grabbing her broom and hoisting it over her shoulder. Someone had woken Wood, who was being propped between Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

"Good game Snape." Wood nodded in her direction, wincing with the movement.

"Off to the Hospital Wing with you then?" Lylah asked, shaking the sand from her robes as the crowds cheered their victory.

"Hope I get as much candy as you." Wood mentioned as the girls helped him walk away from the Pitch.

"Well done!"

"Nice catch!"

Lylah thanked the people who congratulated her, wanting nothing more than to disappear into a shower and not emerge until she was pruned and wrinkly, however most of Gryffindor followed the players into the change rooms and Lylah took a chance to escape out the back and head towards the castle in the direction the girl's had taken Wood.

"Nice flying." Ron and Hermione however, knew better than the others and caught up with her quickly, Ron holding her broom for her and Hermione prattling away the last of her nerves by commenting on everything from the game to the weather and her concern's for Oliver.

"Think you're better than the rest of us now?" The voice of Draco Malfoy reached their ears and they exchanged quiet groans of annoyance.

"No one is better than a Malfoy." Lylah told him sarcastically, squeezing the Snitch still in her hand.

"I want that knife." Malfoy told her, wand in hand. Lylah Ron and Hermione drew theirs, mindful of the voices of students and teachers that could be heard close by.

"Maybe I gave it to the Headmaster?" Lylah pointed out, making Malfoy scowl.

"I'm going to get that knife back, one way or another." He promised, putting his wand away as the students began to stream away from the Quidditch Pitch.

"Let's go." Lylah muttered to Ron and Hermione, who walked with her up to the castle.

"You played well yesterday." The voice of her uncle interrupted Lylah as she studied in the library, Ron and Hermione jumping as his voice startled them. Lylah jumped up form her desk and wrapped her arms around her uncle, the top of her head not reaching halfway up his chest as he embraced her.

"Thank you for the broom." She told him enthusiastically.

"Consider it an early Christmas present." He told her, looking over at what she was working on. "Number twelve is wrong." He informed her before sweeping out of the library, terrorising a couple of students lingering by the door.

"Blimey, he's scary." Ron commented as Lylah began to correct her answer.

"He's not really." Lylah told Ron, noting Hermione's curious look.

"What happened to your parents?" Hermione asked, looking almost uncomfortable about breaching the subject with Lylah.

Lylah simply shrugged nonchalantly. "They died when I was a baby."

Hermione looked downcast. "I never knew my parents, I was adopted by the Prewitt's when I was six, grew up in a Wizarding Retrieval Operation Centre."

"WROC?" Lylah question, shivering lightly. "That couldn't have been pleasant."

"I can't remember much, spells and the like. I remember they shaved all our heads because of lice." Hermione dragged her hands through her long hair. "I swore I'd never cut mind again when I got out of there."

"My parents were Lysander and Linnea Snape." Lylah explained. "They were very private, Mum was a half-blood, though I don't need an armband because of my Uncle's influence." Her expression was dark, almost guilty for a moment.

"How did they die?" Ron asked rudely, sneaking bites of the sandwich he had hidden under the table.

"Aurors." Lylah said simply. "I don't know much, my Uncle doesn't talk about it."

"That's sad." Hermione commented, taking Lylah's hand in hers and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Lylah Snape?" An older boy wearing a prefect's badge interrupted their conversation, bearing a scroll of parchment bound with a dark green ribbon. Lylah nodded to his question of her name and took the proffered scroll, waiting until the boy left them alone to crack the plain wax seal and unfurl the letter.

_Miss Snape, _

_You are requested to attend the Divination Class in the North Tower at Midnight tonight. Casual dress is permitted, learning equipment will be provided. _

_Headmaster Black._

"Divination class?" Hermione scoffed as she read the letter after Lylah.

"At Midnight?" Ron asked, a yawn splitting his jaws. "Makes me tired thinking about it."

"Why do I have to go to this class?" Lylah asked, waving the parchment around, annoyed at the order thinly veiled as a request.

"Anyone else who had a reaction to the Fore-Sight probably has to go." Hermione shrugged.

"Did anyone else end up in the Hospital Wing?" Lylah asked, embarrassed.

"Well, a Hufflepuff girl fell down the stairs after." Ron sniggered as he recounted the story. "But no one was screaming or anything."

"Great." Lylah slumped down on the table, head on her arms.

"Oh come one." Hermione attempted to cheer her up. "How bad could it be?"

* * *

One of the reviews asked whether I was going to cover all the books (that's not exactly verbaitim, but you get the point) and while I don't want to skip over books because I don't want Lylah to suddenly grow up and become all slutty (not that she will) all of a sudden, I hated, **hated** the Chamber of Secrets, it rubbed me the wrong way and I am currently floating as to how to incorporate it into this story, while books like POA, I'm excited about writing my way. So see the problem? Let me know what you think.

Did I mention I love you reviewers?


	5. Burning Brightly

Someone left a review in which they pointed out that this fic was not worth the 'M' rating. Well, this chapter might help a little and may I just point that our main character is ELEVEN. Some people (me included) only think with their pants.

This IS going somewhere. Don't panic.

I love those who review. So review and earn my love.

* * *

Just before midnight, Lylah rolled out of bed and by the dim light of a _lumos_ pulled on a warm dark dress, tights and shoes, before wrapping herself warmly in her cloak and setting out for the North Tower. Aware that she was meant to be out of bed, someone had set a path of hovering light globes that grew brighter the closer she stepped, lighting the way to the Divination classroom and stopping at the base of the ladder, which was similar to that of the Astronomy Tower classroom.

She was greeted by a dozen sleepy students, who blinked at her through heavy lidded eyes that struggled to focus in the dim classroom, most of them were older students, several Ravenclaws, a handful of Gryffindors and the rest Slytherin, there were no Hufflepuffs which intrigued Lylah.

Following the actions of the other students, Lylah cast aside her cloak and sat upon one of the many plush cushions that filled the room, looking around curiously at the many Divination tools, and a ridiculous collection of flowery tea cups, most chipped and cracked with matching tea pots. There was no teacher around, so most of the other students sat there talking quietly amongst themselves or drinking from thermoses like this was an everyday occurrence. Someone sat down beside Lylah, and had to bite back a curse she'd learned from her Uncle as Draco Malfoy, looking too well presented for the late hour, lounged beside her with the typical grace and cockiness of a pureblood Slytherin that he was.

Several other first year students eventually filtered into the classroom, most of them looking nervous the last one being the Hufflepuff that Ron had identified as having fallen down the stairs, she looked around the classroom as if unsure, so Lylah shifted closer to Malfoy, a bitter taste in her mouth and motioned for the girl to sit beside her.

"Hannah Abbott, right?" Lylah asked, remembering the girl's sorting.

"Yeah!" She said enthusiastically, although quietly.

"Lylah Snape." Lylah held out a hand for the girl to shake.

"This is exciting, isn't it?" Hannah asked as she peered around the room at the other students.

Beside Lylah, Malfoy scoffed at the girl's exclamation, and Lylah subtly dug and elbow into his robs, making him grit his teeth, any remark he could have offered was bit back as the adults arrived, three of them.

The first was a frizzy haired woman, her slight formed draped in many spangly shawls, her eyes magnified by the thick glasses she wore and her hands covered in a multitude of rings and bracelets that clinked together as she moved. She cowered away from Voldemort who followed behind her, still dressed in a dark muggle suit, red eyes scanning the students present, all who looked towards the ground, humble in the presence of the Dark Lord. The last man who followed the Dark Lord was a short, plump man, with rat like features, and a bald spot appearing amidst his mousy brown hair, his watery eyes danced over the students, lingering uncomfortably too long on the older female students, a twitchy smirk appearing on his face.

"That's Peter Pettigrew." Hannah whispered to Lylah, a disgusted look on her face.

"Wormtail." Lylah breathed the name, remembering her Uncle's stories and warnings about the creepy little man. As if he'd heard her from across the classroom, Wormtail's eyes snapped to where Lylah was sitting, a curious look spreading across his face, however his expression dropped and he yelped as Nagini slithered up his arm, spitting at the man before dropping to the ground and sliding through the students, occasionally snapping at someone, before coiling at the feet of Voldemort, who with a flick of his hand, set the frizzy haired woman upon the first years.

"I am Professor Trelawney." She introduced, her words long and drawn out, accentuated with many hand movements. "Here in Divination, we are going to tap into the potential that each of you may have, encourage that little spark inside each of you to become a roaring flame, see into the beyond." She flapped her arm a little and the first years tilted their heads to the side in confusion.

Lylah looked over at where the older students were already equipped with small bowls, each staring into whatever substance filled them, each totally lost, eyes flickering as if watching moving pictures.

Lylah was startled from her thoughts as a hideously pink teacup was forced into her hands by Trelawney, who set tea pots in between groups of students and went about explaining what they were meant to be seeing at the bottom of their tea cups.

"Why are we doing this in the middle of the night?" Lylah asked as She sat opposite Hannah, a battered tea pot between them, Draco Malfoy unhappily roped into their group by Trelawney, who frowned at the boy and shook her head sadly as she passed.

Draco gave the Professor a dirty look and took a sip of his tea, spitting it out and almost showering the girls.

"What the hell is that?" He asked in shock, Lylah, whose robes were now covered in spittle and tea, calmly removed her wand and cleaned her robes off, as well as Hannah's.

"I believe it's called tea, Malfoy." Lylah told him smartly, taking a mouthful and frowning at the weak watery tea, with undertones of what could have been Muggle cleaning fluid.

"You think she's trying to kill us?" Hannah asked, worried.

Lylah waited until Trelawney had gone to 'assist' another student before lifting the lid of her teapot and pouring her cup of tea back in it, turning the cup upside down on her saucer to let the tea leaves drain.

"You've done this before?" Malfoy accused, following suit.

"Our house elf makes dreadful tea." Lylah explained, lifting her cup to examine the tea leaves that remained.

"Are we meant to see the future in these?" Hannah asked as she examined her own soggy tea leaves.

"Children!" The all jumped as Trelawney swooped again. "What insights have you to offer the Dark Lord?"

"The tea is terrible?" Malfoy offered arrogantly.

"Is that so, Mr. Malfoy?" The cold voice of Voldemort made them all pale, Hannah and Lylah biting back fearful laughter as Draco tensed.

"Is this something you saw in your leaves son?" Trelawney asked, snatching his cup to peer at the leaves. "It is as I saw earlier, tell me, is your father in good health?"  
Malfoy snatched his cup back, bowing his head as Voldemort came to stand before them, his stature imposing.

"Hannah?" Lylah prompted, watching as the girl's hands shook violently, her tea cup rattling against the saucer. "Are you okay."

With a gasp, Hannah suddenly threw the cup away as though it was red hot, stumbling back and knocking away cushions and tea cups.

"What's wrong with her?" Malfoy asked bluntly, a sneer on his face.

"Hannah?" Lylah reached out a hand to touch the girl, but a pale hand shot out in a blur and snatched her hand away before it could touch Hannah, and Lylah was pulled back, arm tightly in Voldemort's grip as Hannah fell to the floor, sobbing quietly.

"What did you see, Child?" Trelawney asked, swooping in over the fallen Hufflepuff, arms spread as though going to hug the girl. Hannah gave a startled gasp and scrambled away from the Professor, her feet scrabbling for purchase on the many rugs that covered the floor.

"Hannah!" Twisted her arm from the Dark Lord's grip, unfearful of the repercussions of defying him, Lylah slipping past an amused Malfoy and hovering Trelawney, dropping to Hannah's side and putting an arm around the girl. As soon as her hand landed on Hannah's arm, Lylah's vision clouded over, her mind spirally down dark corridors with a hand outstretched above her reach desperately, as though running from something, the smell of roses in her nose.

"Lylah?" Hannah's voice sounded far away, like she was standing across the room, but when Lylah shook her head to clear her mind, the other girl still huddled on the ground, arm beneath Lylah's hand, a confused look on her face. "How did we get on the ground?"

"I think we need air." Lylah told her, standing steady and offering Hannah a supporting hand. "All I can smell is the incense in here."

Voldemort watched the girl's with an expression that made him almost look amused, Malfoy looked around for a fellow Slytherin with which to mock Hannah's episode, but finding no one, he settled for scowling at the floor, aware of the Dark Lord's proximity. it was down at his feet that he saw the tea cup Hannah had so fearfully thrust away and picked it up, he looked at the soggy tea leaves, frowning at the what looked like a black dog.

* * *

Lylah and Hannah chose to return to their dormitories, Lylah briefly re-entering the classroom to inform Trelawney and making her escape. When they parted ways to return to their common rooms, Hannah looked perfectly normal, but seemed confused about her actions and Lylah left her with promises to talk to her the next morning.

With Christmas approaching, most of the students were gearing up to return home for the holidays and Lylah found herself unsure as to whether to stay in the castle which was being charmed to reflect the holidays, or to return to her Uncle's home for another quiet Christmas. Her Uncle solved her dilemma by informing her that he had been tasted with an assignment and that she would be staying at Hogwarts for the Holidays.

"I will be back Christmas Day." He promised, not wanting to provoke tears in his young niece. Lylah simply smiled at him sadly and told him to be careful as always, however as he turned to walk back down to the dungeons, she frowned, noticing a slight limp in his walk.

"Not going home then?" Hermione Prewitt appeared, shaking Lylah from her thoughts and carrying a heavy stack of books, which Lylah helped her carry to an empty seat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. "I found it you know."

"Found what?" Lylah asked as Hermione began to open books and slide them in front of her.

"_Canis Lupis Cerberus_." Hermione declared, pointing out a picture of a three headed dog, similar to the one they'd stumbled on earlier.

"That doesn't explain why it's here." Lylah pointed out.

"Yes, but this book mentions one such breeder of creatures like these, and others." Hermione explained. "He used to be a groundskeeper at this school before You-Know-Who came to power."

"Rubeus Hagrid." Lylah read. "Never heard of him."

"He fled Britain, apparently he lives in Romania, close to the dragons." Hermione told her, showing Lylah an archived newspaper article. "Apparently, he's half Giant."

"How can you be half Giant?" Lylah questioned.

"Don't know." Hermione shrugged. "But didn't Ron say he had a brother who lives in Romania."

"Let's go find him then." Lylah suggested. "He's probably packing for the holiday."

Ron was in fact playing Wizard's Chess in the common room, grinning in victory as his queen swept away a rook in a vicious attack.

"That's barbaric." Hermione exclaimed as a pawn stood to smash another to pieces.

"That's Wizard's Chess." Ron told her proudly. "Any of you play?" He asked as his Queen checkmated his rival's King, the older student shaking Ron's hand before joining friends in the other corner of the common room.

"Absolutely not." Hermione stated.

"My Uncle taught me some." Lylah told him, taking a seat opposite Ron and watching as the pieces pulled themselves back together and resumed their starting positions. "I'm not very good I'm afraid."

"That's okay." Ron told her. "Shouldn't you be packing?"

"Shouldn't you?" Hermione counted.

"Change of plans, my parents have gone to visit my brother Charlie in Romania."

"Romania?" Lylah asked. "Has your brother heard of a man called Hagrid?"

"My parents have known Hagrid for years." Ron explained. he went quiet for a moment before he motioned for the girls to lean in closer. "He was in the Order, before You-Know-Who took over."

"Do you think he'd reply if we wrote to him?" Hermione questioned.

"I'm sending a letter off to my Mum and Dad soon, they could probably pass it along to him." Ron offered.

"You can borrow Hedwig if you like." Lylah suggested. "She's probably wanting to stretch her wings."

Ron nodded enthusiastically and Hermione rushed to find a quill and parchment to write a letter while Lylah was beaten by Ron at Chess, who glowed with his accomplishment.

"All done." Hermione thrust a scroll of parchment at Ron, shooing him off to the Owlery and the two girl's returned to the homework they had been given for the holidays.

"Come quick!" A second year Gryffindor boy suddenly burst into the common room, several friends behind him, faces red, breathing heavily.

"What's going on?" Someone asked as everyone began to stand and move closer to the entrance.

"Amelia Bones was arrested for treason." One of them panted. "The whole family's on the front lawn."

Several students dropped back in their seats in shock, one girl burst into tears while another gasped. A number of boys balled their fists in anger, gritting their teeth while the younger students looked at each other, confused as to what this meant.

"Come along then." Percy Weasley stood in the middle of the common room. "You know what we have to do."

The girls immediately grouped together, clutching hands and holding each other as they walked out of the common room, the rest of the students trickling out reluctantly.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked Lylah, who shook her head in confusion.

"We have to go down to the lawn." Percy told them ambiguously. "The Dark Lord is going to punish the family as an example and we have to watch, or more punishment will follow."

"Punish them?" Hermione asked, even as she was led from the common room. "Punish them how?"

"Did you eat lunch?" Percy inquired, face ashen.

Wordlessly, Lylah and Hermione shook their heads.

"That's probably a good thing then." Oliver Wood appeared beside Percy, he took looked to be gritting his teeth. He stepped in beside Lylah and put a reassuring arm over her shoulder, although for what she needed comfort for, Lylah was unsure.

It was a cloudy day, but there was no wind or rain and sombrely the students of Hogwarts crossed the grassy lawn to stand around a roughly constructed wooden cage inside which over a dozen witches and wizards were contained, the oldest a man with a long grey beard and a hard expression on his withered face, clutching the youngest who couldn't have been more than seven. In the middle of the family, Lylah could see Susan Bones, a first year Hufflepuff, tears rolling down her cheeks as a plump witch clutched onto her and wailed in fear.

"What's happening to them?" Lylah asked, but her mind had already began to calculate with what it was presented with, burning braziers, a wooden cage and most importantly, what the cage was built upon, an unlit pyre.

"Lily?" The old man in the cage had caught sight of Lylah, his eyes fixed on her face, even as she looked to the other students. "No, you're her daughter, Lily! Help us."

A hand around her shoulders dragged her back a little, and Lylah instantly recognized her Uncle, even as her eyes remained fixed on the people in the cage. Snape lifted his hand a beam of light struck the old man in the chest, sending him flying back against the bars before he slumped down unconscious, the little girl crying as she dropped to his side and tried to prod him awake.

She felt a shiver go through her, and almost put it down as shock as she saw several other students shudder.

"They're making sure we're all here." Hermione figured, her hand sneaking into Lylah's. Snape held Lylah against him, facing the cage, head bowed towards the top her dark hair, feeling her shake as Voldemort walked into the centre of the crowd and stood before the cage. Everyone instantly fell into silence, watching, waiting.

"Let it be seen, here, today!" He shouted. "That those who fight progress, who want us to live as _they_ do, will be punished!" Several Death Eaters burst from the crowd, their masks glinting as they circled the cage, each grabbing a burning stick from the brazier.

"Uncle Sev?" Lylah asked, her voice a little more than a whisper.

"Let it been seen!" Voldemort told them. "That those who think we should live like Muggles, will burn like Muggles!"

He gesture towards the Death Eaters who cheerfully shoved their burning branches underneath the cage, into the dry, treated wood that caught quickly and gave off very little smoke. Instantly the people in the cage began to scream and cry out as the flames spread, licking at their feet, there was no rescue from smoke to suffocate them, they felt it as the fire began to grow, catching on their robes as their screams grew louder, filled with agony.

"Help us." One woman begged, trying to hold the little girl above the reach of the fire, her eyes wide in panic, screaming as loud as she could as the fire began to bite at her little bare feet.

"_Avada Kedavra._" The Killing Curse issued from her Uncle's mouth and the sickly jet of green light that issued from his wand hit the little girl, the light and the fear fading from her eyes as her body went limp, sagging in her mother's arms. The others cried for mercy, begged it of the students, most of whom looked away as the people in the cage began to fold as they succumbed to the fire, Susan Bones screaming as loud as the others, falling to the flames.

Hermione held Lylah's hand in a death grip, and her Uncle's hold on her did not lessen as she felt horrified tears fill her eyes, almost choking with the vile smell that wafted from the remains of the cage, and in that bitter moment as the screams died down and only the whimpering of the witnesses could be heard, Lylah's eyes met Draco Malfoy's across the funeral pyre.

Bellatrix Lestrange pulled of her Death Eater's mask, a smug look of satisfaction on her face as she reached into the dying fire to pull from it a simple gold chain, the charred skin of its wearer sticking to it in clumps. More than one students broke away to throw up, most were no longer looking, faces buried in each other's shoulders, hiding away in the comfort of their friends. Lylah could see Ron standing there with all his brothers so pale that his freckles stood out starkly in contrast, the Weasley boys each other a tight grip on another's shoulders, one of the twins comforting Angelina Johnson.

"Let this be a lesson." Voldemort told them, eyes accusing all of them. "They suffered and so shall you. Your loved ones will pay the price."

All that followed was silence and as soon as they were dismissed, the students raced for their common room, Hermione holding onto Lylah's hand the entire time, Snape letting her go in order to meet with Voldemort. Ron met the girls halfway up the lawn, slinging an arm around Hermione, Oliver Wood appearing beside Lylah to guide her into the castle, while all around other older students reached out to the younger ones to comfort them, lead them away from the horrors they had just witnessed.

Rather than sit in the hustle and bustle of the common room, Hermione and Lylah, joined by Daisy, followed Ron into the boy's dormitory, sitting in a circle on the floor as their minds raced.

"There's no more Bones now." Daisy suddenly said, tear stains on her cheeks and shirt.

"What?" Hermione's eyes were almost glazed over.

"Most of them died in the first war." Ron explained to her. "Guess that was the last of their family." Ron suddenly stood, walking over to the window and breathing heavily as he looked out, catching sight of the smouldering fire. Suddenly, he slammed his fist against the window pane. "This sucks!"

"Why didn't anyone do anything?" Lylah asked. "They just stood there and watched them burn."

"I always thought Professor Snape was a heartless git." Daisy told Lylah apologetically. "But he's the only one who gave that girl some mercy."

"Why did that man call you Lily?" Hermione suddenly asked Lylah.

Lylah shook her head a little, feeling sick. "I don't know, he must have been confused."

"That poor little girl." Daisy said, shaking her head. They all fell into silence together, not going to dinner, Daisy occasionally bursting into tears.

Much later, when it was dark, an older student ventured into the first year boys dormitory, face lined with grief.

"Lylah Snape?" He asked, seeing them leaning against each other, Ron snoring away lightly. "We have Divination Class soon."

Lylah shook her head. "I'm not going back up there, not tonight."

"I understand." The boy nodded. "But you don't want to anger You-Know-Who, not tonight."

Lylah threw on a robe and followed the boy to Divination, mildly surprised at how late it was, but despite the hour, the common room was still packed with shocked students who sat in little groups comforting each other silently, it made Lylah was to retreat back up to the boy's dormitory, to sit there with her friends.

Hannah met her at the base of the Tower, eyes rimmed red and Lylah felt her heart jerk as she realised that Susan Bones would have been Hannah's housemate.

"Are you okay?" She asked Hannah quietly as the other students filtered past to climb the stairs.

"All her stuff is still there, she doesn't have any family to send it to." Hannah sobbed, burying her face in Lylah's shoulder. "Her little sister Camille, she was seven, and they burned her."

"Come on, you'll be late." Lylah almost drew her wand as Draco Malfoy appeared and interrupted, but there was no malice in his tone, simply bitterness. He stood several feet away, indicating that they should start climbing the stairs of the tower.

With her arm around Hannah, and Malfoy at her back, Lylah entered the Divination classroom, where the students sat silently, the younger ones already clutching their teapots and opening their books.

Lylah, Hannah and Draco sat in the same circle as last time, a silent truce in place between them as they opened their notebooks and ignored Trelawney's prosperous entrance in a cloud of incense, with Voldemort silently following.

The lesson, unlike the previous one, was uneventful, the three of them staring at confusing shapes in soggy tea leaves, most of them leaving an hour later with headaches to match heartache.

Lylah's feet marched her back to Gryffindor tower faster than the others, but even her footsteps faltered when she saw the man who stood outside her common room.

"Uncle Severus." She acknowledged.

"How was your lesson?" He asked formally.

"I stared at tea when I would rather much be asking how they were able to burn those people alive today in front of children?" Her eyes filled with hot tears that rolled down her cheeks steadily, but still she held her Uncle at arm's distance.

"I do what _he_ bids me." Her Uncle told her. "Sometimes his methods are hard to understand."

"One woman's mistake meant an eleven year old and a seven year old had to burn to death?" Lylah cried. "What kind of method is that?"  
"You think I blindly follow his orders?" Snape asked. "Do you think I went unpunished for all the years _you_ weren't forced to attend Death Eater meetings, socialise with the Pureblood crowd. Do you think I was unpunished for killing that girl mercifully?"

Lylah continued to cry silently as he ranted and when he paused to draw breath, she pushed past him and into her common room.

* * *

Just a little clear up, I'm Australian, we say ridiculous things like boot instead of trunk (car) and we use the metric system, bizare, I know. We also do things like say Basil, Aluminium, and Oregano the correct way, so don't be confused, Harry Potter is British, they use the metric system (of this, I am about 95% sure.) So if you find something, it's my redneck, middle of nowhere, pick up hitchikers and kill them.

Also, that little scene where a cage full of people burn to death isn't just there for my own sick pleasure. While reading a children's novel at about 7 years of age, a cage full of people are burnt to death as an example, needless to say it warped me just a little bit and made me question who thought that was good scene for a children's book. This was meant to give an example of the fear of the Dark Lord, Voldemort's willingness to maintain his occupation of Britain through violent means, he is by no means a fluffy bunny. This scene also was meant to bring into question Snape's loyalty, given that he really only defected from the Death Eaters because he wanted to save Lily's life.

And Malfoy, it was always my intention for him to become Lylah's ally.

Review.


	6. Thick as Thieves

In Office Word, I found this cool things that allows you to strike out words. Surprise, surprise, it wouldn't upload. So I underlined what was meant to be struck out and you are going to use your imagination.

underline = struckout (scribbled out, scratched out, you get it.) It's only like five words.

And you may be wondering, 'what the fuck is going on?' Don't worry, all will be revealed soon.

Like in two chapters, when I finish first year and launch into second. you'll have fun, and you'll review, because a thousand people in one day read the last chapter, and like 7 reviewed. So, I'm kinda losing faith here people.

* * *

The events preceding the departures of the students from Hogwarts for the holidays meant that at the last minute the numbers grew rapidly, even Hermione made an excuse to go home for the break despite not having access to the school library.

Ron and Lylah were one of the only Gryffindors remaining apart from Oliver Wood and the other Wesley's and their days were mostly filled with exploding snap and Wizard's Chess, which Lylah was still easily beaten at.

Lylah did not see her Uncle in this time, and found herself often drifting back to their last altercation, wondering where he was and what he was doing.

Christmas morning she woke alone in the dormitory to the pile of packages that spilled from the end of her bed to the floor, most of them obligatory polite gifts from Purebloods associated with her Uncle, after sorting through a pile of jewellery from every house witch with a pureblood husband, Lylah opened the simply wrapped gifts from her Uncle to reveal several new dresses all appropriate for a girl of her age and blood status, as well as books on various subjects. Hermione had sent a magical day planner in which Lylah could schedule her various homework assignments and Ron giving her a colourful guide to the world of Quidditch. Even Oliver Wood have sent her a pair of butter soft Quidditch gloves that were both flexible and protective and Lylah found herself grateful for remembering to send her Quidditch team mates small tokens for Christmas.

Towards the bottom of the pile, there was one parcel, wrapped simply and bearing no tag, hastily wrapped to the point that when Lylah picked it, a bundle of material simply slithered to the ground to pool at her feet. Frowning, she picked up the material, shaking it out and smiling happily when she realised that it was a cloak, albeit a bit too long for her small stature. Frowning, Lylah picked up a card that fell from the wrapping.

_Your father's cloak. It's time it was returned to you. _

Lylah frowned, examining the scrawled handwriting that was unfamiliar, shrugging, she placed it was her other cards.

Journeying down to the common room with the cloak over her arm, Lylah met Ron at the large Christmas tree in the corner of the common room, his face already smeared with Christmas chocolate.

"Merry Christmas." He threw a package at her. "My Mum sent that, sorry."

Lylah frowned at the apology, but opened the lumpy package to reveal a warm, knitted red jumper, with a yellow 'L' in the middle, looking at Ron, she grinned when she saw wearing a similar one, bearing an 'R'.

"It's perfect." She told him sincerely, tugging it on over one of the new dresses her uncle had sent her, and accepting one of the chocolates Ron offered her.

"What's that there?" Ron indicated the cloak on her arm.

"Someone sent it to me, apparently it belonged to my father." Lylah told him.

"Well, put it on then." Ron encouraged. Hesitatingly, Lylah wrapped the long cloak around herself, Ron went white when he saw her appearance, mouth hanging open in shock.

"It's not that bad is it?" Lylah asked, looking down at the cloak, gasping in surprise when she didn't see anything.

"It's an invisibility cloak!" Ron exclaimed, stumbling over his pile of presents to snatch at the air where Lylah stood.

"These are meant to be really rare." Lylah remember, taking the cloak off and letting Ron have a go.

"Who gave it to you?" Ron asked.

"The note didn't have a name, just that it belonged to my father." She said. "Maybe my Uncle will know."

"He's a teacher." Ron pointed out. "He'll probably take it off you."

"It was his brother's, how could he not know?"

"Let's ask Hermione. When she gets back." Ron suggested. "Oh, hey, Mum sent a letter from that Hagrid bloke with our presents."

"What does it say?" Lylah snatched the paper from his and scanned it eagerly.

_Helo, you lot. Good to here from yung ones intrested in fasinating cretures. The won you said, sounds like won I rased from a pup, his name was Fluffy. I had him right up til the start of the year when I swaped him for a dragons egg, right before I left Britain for Romania, __as a favour for Flamel__. Good cretures those three heded dogs, a bit moody, but thay go right to sleep if you play them a litle music. The dragon hached into a butiful Norwegian Ridgeback, named him Norbert, 'corse, he turned out to be a girl when he go older. I'll be back in Britain, mayhap midle of next year, right arund the time you lot have holadays, so any more qestions you can ask me straight up._

_Youres, Hagrid._

"Fluffy?" Ron questioned sceptically.

"Look at this, Hagrid's tried to scrub out the name Flamel." Lylah pointed it out on the letter.

"Is that important?" Ron asked.

"Well, he obviously doesn't want us to know about it." Lylah explained. "Music to put that evil dog to sleep. He'll bite our heads off before we can get close enough."

"You know any instruments, cause I don't." Ron told her.

"I was raised the old fashioned way." Lylah complained. "I know a little on some instruments, but nothing to put a three headed dog to sleep. And why do we need to put him to sleep, whatever he's guarding is none of our business."

They waited until Hermione returned from Holidays before bombarding her with Hagrid's information, the invisibility cloak and the knowledge that Fluffy was possible to get past.

"Well, he's not a very good guard dog then, is he?" Hermione asked as she read the part about music. "Someone could figure that out easily, especially if Hagrid goes around telling children about it."

"And whose this Flamel?" Lylah asked as she pointed out the name in Hagrid's letter.

"It's almost as if he was trying to get us to find whatever's under that bloody dog." Ron said.

"Don't be silly." Hermione scolded. "It's obviously a friend, but Hagrid fought for the light, he wouldn't go giving guard dog's and friends possessions, especially under the Dark Lord's nose."

"Oh no." Lylah suddenly gasped. "My Uncle had a limp, before Christmas, you don't think he was trying to get past that dog, do you?"

The two of them gave Lylah a sceptical look.

"No offence." Hermione started to say, "But your Uncle supported You-Know-Who in the war, I don't think he'd be trying to snatch something he clearly wants protected." Her hand flew to her yellow armband.

"Maybe we should go look around the library." Lylah conceded. Hermione nodded her approval, and they set off towards the library.

Three weeks later and they were no closer to discovering what Fluffy could have been sleeping on, and the name Flamel was never found.

"This is ridiculous." Hermione snapped one day, throwing down another heavy text book.

"I swear I've read the name somewhere, but there's nothing, not out here anyway." Lylah mused, looking over at the locked gates of the Restricted Section.

"I hear all the books with information about the War are in there." Ron told the girls.

They all looked at the section with interest. "Maybe you can get your Uncle to give us permission to go in there." He suggested.

Lylah shook her head. "He wouldn't in a million years, I'm not even allowed to go in his library at home without supervision."

"What are we going to do then?" Hermione asked, frustrated.

"Maybe we don't need permission to go in the Restriction Section." Lylah suggested boldly.

That night, the three of them crept slowly under the invisibility cloak, stopping every five minutes at the faint sounds of footsteps, hissing as someone stepped on another's foot, and colliding with walls.

When they finally reached the library, a quick _Alohomora_ took care of the doors, and then on the gate to the Restriction Section. Ripping off the cloak, and lighting a lamp, they gazed around in amazement at the books that were spread everywhere, stacks hazardously build, covered in thick dust, as though no one had stirred them in decades.

"Look at this!" Hermione exclaimed. "These texts have all thought to been lost. _Dumbledore and Grindelwald_, _Muggle Studies, First Edition_, look, _History of Magic_, this is from before the war!" She sounded close to tears.

"If Flamel's anywhere, he's in here." Lylah comforted her, reading the spines of the ancient texts.

"What's _Nurmengard_?" Ron made a face as he pronounced it.

"It's a prison." Lylah explained, Hermione looked at her in interest. "Like Azkaban, only Grindelwald built it to hold his enemies, was imprisoned there later on."

"Who put him there?" asked Ron, looking around at all the books.

Lylah shrugged. "No one knows for sure, one of the things people don't talk about. Let's just find Flamel and go."

Hermione selected a text book, but the second she opened it, the sound of violent screams filled the air, making her drop the book, the three of them covering their ears against the offensive sounds.

The other books suddenly joined in, and in a panic, the three of them fled, grabbing the invisibly cloak and running towards the exit, ducking down an unused corridor as the screams echoed through the halls. In a hurry, they huddled together under the cloak as teachers began to rush towards the library, while Lylah, Hermione and Ron stood still and held their breaths in anticipation, Narcissa Malfoy entering the library, after which the screams suddenly stopped and the Witch emerged, holding their forgotten lamp.

"We have a student out of bed." She announced angrily.

Bellatrix Lestrange pulled out her wand, teeth bared in a feral snarl. "Let's go hunting."

"I'll go notify the headmaster and Dark Lord." Snape drawled, while several other teachers such as Flitwick and McGonagall pulled out their wands to conjure lights as they began to search the halls.

"Come on." Hermione whispered, and they began to move away from the teachers.

"Wait, Hermione." Ron hissed as soon as they were away from the teachers. "Gryffindor House is the other way."

"They're going to have teachers all over the house entrances." Hermione pointed out.

"So where are we going?" Lylah asked under her breath.

"We're going to the forest." Hermione told them, pausing to show them what she had hidden in the folds of her robes, a tattered book.

"_Notable Wizards of the Last Century._" Lylah read aloud. "What if that thing starts screaming again?"

"That's why we're going towards the forest." Hermione said exasperatedly. "So no one hears it."

"They can probably track that thing." Ron whimpered.

"So, we'll bury it when we're done." Hermione told him, guiding them out of the castle doors and into the snow.

"Good thing we wore shoes." Lylah muttered, casting a warming charm under the huddle of the cloak.

"Good thing we know magic." Ron added, casting a light charm for them to see by as they walked towards the looming forest.

"This is crazy." Lylah told Hermione. "We're not allowed in the forest for a reason."

"Who says that the forest in dangerous?" Hermione asked. "If books, books that have information _He_ doesn't want read, are locked away, what's to say what's in the forest is any worse."

"Those books were pretty dangerous." Ron muttered, rubbing at his ears. As soon as they reached the first line of trees in the forest, they all lit up their wands, glancing into the darkness hesitantly before taking off the invisibility cloak and stepping awkwardly over tree roots and rocks, going just deep enough that they couldn't see the silhouette of Hogwarts in the distance.

"Alright then." Hermione sat delicately on a rock and set the book on her lap. "_Silencio."_

"What does that do?" Ron asked. "Kill it?"

"It's the Silencing spell we learned in Charms last week Ron." Lylah told him, peering over Hermione's shoulder as she opened the book.

Suddenly, the book crumbled the ash, slipping through her fingers to be carried away with the wind.

"Oh no!" Hermione tried desperately to catch a handful of the ash, failing as the wind blew threw the agitated trees. Lylah shivered nervously.

"I think that was a sign we should go." She recommended to Ron and Hermione.

"_Reparo._" Hermione jabbed at a small pile of ash with her wand.

"It's gone Hermione." Lylah told her. "And we should go too."

The wind had begun to grow stronger, sending a flurry of snow that thickened quickly and made it almost impossible to see.

"Someone has to be causing this weather." Hermione called, linking arms with Lylah and Ron to keep them together.

"Let's get away from here." Lylah yelled over the howling of the wind, and the three of them moved slowly against the wind, without sense of direction or an idea as to where they could shelter.

What sounded like footsteps alerted them to the presence of another, and they turned around, just as a hooded figure descended from the snow, yelling, they all fell down in a tangle, drawing their wands as the hooded figure turned, as if preparing to attack them.

Through the snow burst a creature, on four hooves it charged the hooded figure, forcing it to retreat, and with an unearthly creature, the hooded figure retreated. The creature, a centaur turned to face the fallen children, looking down at them.

Carrying the three of them on his back, the centaur who called himself Firenze, took them to the edge of the forest, where the sky had begun to lighten and Hogwarts could be seen in the distance.

"This is where I leave you." He told them as they fell to the ground, stiff with the cold.

"Wait." Lylah called. "What was that thing?"

Firenze was quiet for a moment. "There are many dark creatures in the forest. What you encountered was looking for something with which to sustain itself."

"I'm confused." Hermione shook her head.

"Unicorns child. That creature was drinking the blood of unicorns. A cursed way to sustain a body that is not fully must be the most desperate of creatures."

Seeing movement at the castle, the three of them huddled together again to slip under the invisibility cloak, and when they turned again, Firenze was gone.

That day during lessons, Lylah, Hermione and Ron struggled to stay awake, suffering the repercussions of their late night adventure, almost falling asleep in their pudding by dinner, after which they dragged themselves to bed, sleeping heavily.

It was only the next day that they realised the real consequences of their midnight adventure, more teachers than ever patrolled the corridors, the older students were no longer allowed to go to Hogsmeade and they were once again lectured on their curfew, which was now two hours earlier.

Lylah, Ron and Hermione continued to use the invisibility cloak at night, staying away from the library and hanging around the third floor corridor in an attempt to catch someone sneaking past the three headed dog, but no one ever tried to open the door, or even so much as walked past.

Sleepless nights meant that they yawned their way through lessons, blinking continuously as they copied theory notes and stammering through spell pronunciation. After one late night guarding Fluffy, Lylah fumbled with her Potions ingredients and what could have been a disaster was quickly averted by Snape, who calmly asked her to stay after class.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Sev." She told him as she approached his desk once everyone had left, he didn't look up from marking papers.

"I trust you are sleeping well, no problems?" He asked, voice uninterested as he scribbled a nasty red comment on one students essay.

"No problems." Lylah shook her head.

"Good." He nodded. "And if I find out that you are ever out of bed after curfew, the consequences will be severe." He promised, malice in his bed, and Lylah stilled, excuses and lies on her tongue, but he simply held his hand up.

"Uncle-" She started to say, but he shook his head, lips pressed tightly together, the beginnings of a snarl on his face.

"Enough." He snapped, Lylah's eyes dropped to the floor. "If it is clear your friends are going to be a bad influence, I will see to it that they are not around to sway you as such."

He got up from behind the desk to open the door to the classroom for her. Lylah frowned as he favoured the weight on one leg.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

"That is none of your business, go." He told her curtly, and blinking back tears, Lylah fled the classroom.

That night as Ron walked around near the third floor corridor, Lylah shared her worried with Hermione in the empty common room.

"I really thin he's trying to get past that dog." She told Hermione. "He's limping again, like he was before Christmas and he's angry about something."

"Well, he's never really friendly." Hermione tried to reason with her. "And if he was trying to steal something from You-Know-Who, wouldn't that mean he was working for The Order?"

"He's going to get himself killed." Lylah pointed out bitterly. "He's my only family."

The entrance to the common room suddenly opened and Ron tore of the invisibility cloak.

"You won't believe it." Ron blurted out. "I just saw Snape and Quirrell arguing, Snape was asking if Quirrell had found a way to get past Fluffy!"

"Did Quirrell tell him how?" Lylah asked, both her and Hermione climbing to their feet.

"No." Ron shook his head furiously. "But Snape told him to remember whose side he was on."

"If only we knew what Fluffy was guarding." Hermione stomped her foot in frustration.

"Wait!" Lylah told them, suddenly realising something. Racing up the stairs to the dormitory, she opened her trunk and rummaged through the contents until she found what she was looking for, returning and hading it to Hermione with a flourish.

"_Fourteenth to Seventeenth Century Wizarding Accomplishments._" Hermione read aloud. "You leant this to me at the start of term."

"Yes, and that's why the name Flamel is so familiar." Lylah exclaimed. "We were looking for someone who is alive."

"Nicolas Flamel, born 1326, the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone." Hermione frowned as she read it aloud. "If Flamel's alive, he must be at least six hundred years old."

"That's what Fluffy is guarding!" Lylah announced. "The Philosopher's Stone!"

"What does it do?" Ron asked, peering over Hermione's shoulder at the book.

"A Philosopher's Stone has amazing powers." Hermione informed him. "It can turn any metal into pure gold and produced the Elixir of Life, it would be a powerful weapon against You-Know-Who."

"Why would my Uncle want it then?" Lylah asked. "I can understand why the Dark Lord would hide it here, but why Is my Uncle trying to steal it?"

"We should go to the Headmaster." Hermione automatically suggested.

"And tell him what, we've been sneaking around the school?" Ron asked. "We'd be skinned for that."

"We should go see Professor McGonagall then." Hermione insisted.

"But obviously Snape doesn't know how to get past Fluffy." Ron said, making Lylah scowl. "And even if he did, You-Know-Who is still in the castle, and so is the Headmaster."

"We should just keep an eye on things." Lylah suggested, "My Uncle already knows I've been sneaking around the castle, I don't want to him to know we know all this." She took the book from Hermione's hands and shut it with a snap.

With the knowledge the Stone was secure with the Dark Lord's presence, the three of them starting preparing for the end of term exams, Hermione almost pulling her hair out in frustration, particularly with the other Gryffindor's laidback approach to studying.

Eventually, they caught on however, as did all the older students and the Gryffindor common room became silent save for the scratching of quills and turning of pages every night. Snape remained indifferent towards Lylah, offering her the same animosity in his classes that he treated the Gryffindors with, and while Lylah remained quiet, his rebuffing hurt her deeply.

Twice a week at Midnight, Lylah ventured to Divination, which was no longer supervised by Voldemort and Wormtail, instead all the students were under the direction of Trelawney, who remained convinced that if they stared long enough into a crystal ball, they would see the future. Hannah Abbott had been very quiet since Susan's death, and in her boredom, Lylah had no choice but to enter into stiff, polite conversations with Draco Malfoy, who insulted as many people as he could in completely unrelated discussions. It came to the relief of the first years that they would not be assessed on their Divination skills that year, although the older students could be heard discussing their exams and in articular, what false predictions they were going to feed Trelawney, it made the others smile wryly as the teacher in questioned swooped down to ask them what horrors they saw in the future.

Quidditch was another occupation that filled the forefront of Lylah's mind, with the approaching finals between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and studying at Hermione's insistence, Lylah was left with little time to allow her thoughts to dwell on Fluffy and the Trapdoor, however, Lylah, Ron and Hermione continued to exchange infrequent, tentative written exchange with Hagrid, who wrote them badly misspelt tales of his ventures with the Romanian Dragons, and spoke of his missing Britain dearly.

"It's Leviosa." Hermione at breakfast was attempting to correct Ron's pronunciation while Lylah read Hagrid's latest letter with a smile as he described a hiccuping baby Chinese Fireball dragon. Hermione waved her fork around as though it were a wand in practice, while the others had begun to copy her habit of leaning heavy textbooks against juice pitchers in order to study and eat.

"Not like I haven't done the bloody spell before." Ron protested, ducking as the fork in Hermione's hand swished dangerously close to his face. "What's Hagrid got to say?"

"Dragons are lovely, misunderstood creatures." Lylah handed over the letter to Ron, who scooted down the bench away from Hermione to read it quickly, laughing at the section where Hagrid announced his beard had caught fire again.

"Well, that's not right." Hermione frowned and tried to read the note in Ron's hand upside down.

When the doors to the Great Hall burst open with a bang, everyone in hall jumped, watching as Voldemort strode down the centre of the hall, looking worse for wear. His usually neatly combed short hair was mussed, stubble on his face, eyes furious as he approached Headmaster Black at the High Table.

"Duck in cover." Ron muttered as everyone dropped their heads and avoided looking as Voldemort pulled out his wand and cursed Black.

"Wonderful." Hermione commented quietly, putting her fork down and attentively inspecting her cereal.

Narcissa Malfoy burst through the doors to the Great Hall then, and most students abandon the pretence of not watching as she approached the Dark Lord and muttered something to him quietly. Everyone, even the other teachers watching intently as Voldemort began to torture Black.

"Everyone leave the Hall." Narcissa ordered, everyone stirred lightly, apparently not fast enough, for her beautiful face contorted. "Now!"

There was a rush as people grabbed their books and belongings and fled quickly, standing around in the halls, unsure as to what to do until classes started, the screams of Black being heard from the Great Hall.

"I wonder what's going on?" Lylah mused aloud as Death Eaters, wearing their robes and masks marched through the crowd to enter the Great Hall.

"Dumbledore." Drawled an arrogant voice behind them, and Lylah turned to see Draco Malfoy leaning against a column lazily. "Mother told me this morning, he's stirring troops in Europe."

"So why is the Headmaster being tortured?" Ron asked, looking white.

"Because, you idiot." Draco sneered. "Apparently someone stole something from the Dark Lord, something that Black was meant to be protecting."

"Who is Dumbledore?" Hermione and Lylah asked in unison.

"The Leader of the Order." Ron told them quietly, scanning through the crowds to make sure no teachers were in earshot.

"And he stole something?" Lylah turned to Ron and Hermione. "You don't think?"

"Something from Gringotts." Malfoy finished, Lylah blinked in surprise.

"Didn't someone break into Gringotts in July?" She asked in confusion.

"Broke into, didn't steal anything, this time it's gone." Malfoy shrugged. "The Dark Lord has lost all confidence in Black."

The doors burst open and Voldemort strode out again, Death Eaters on his tail, Narcissa Malfoy looking angry.

"To class with you!" She commanded and everyone quickly dispersed.

"I'll bet they're going to move the Stone." Lylah said to Ron and Hermione as they quickly moved to Potions.

"Well, that's a good thing isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"No, it means if my Uncle's trying to steal it, he's going to get desperate and try to steal it without knowing how to get it." Lylah exclaimed.

"Well, he can't steal it anytime soon." Hermione pointed out. "He's teaching."

"Maybe the Stone will be gone by tonight." Ron said happily. "And then we can forget about this whole mess."

For the rest of the day, Lylah was troubled, worried about her Uncle, and at dinner everyone was quietly discussing the events of that morning when Headmaster Black, looking terrible, stood and called for silence.

"This weekend, there will be guests in the castle." He announced. "You are restricted to your dormitories until classes recommence on Monday."

Everyone burst into protest at this announcement, but Black simply left the Great Hall.

"That's when they're going to move the Stone." Hermione announced quietly to Ron and Lylah.

"Why not just do it now?" Lylah asked, confused about the situation.

"They must be waiting until something to protect the Stone is in place." Hermione shrugged. "See, everything's fine."

"Not everything." Lylah looked up at where her Uncle was glaring at a pale and trembling Quirrell, whose hands shook so badly he was having trouble eating.

"I bet Quirrell cracks before tonight." Ron shook his head.

"We have to stop him." Lylah determined. "Tonight, we have to go take the Stone, before my Uncle."

"Why would we do that?" Ron objected loudly, making people in the hall turn to look at them.

"Hush." Hermione snapped. "Maybe you can send the Stone to your parents, use it for good."

"I'm not watching Ron's family put in a cage on the lawn." Lylah protested. "That's too risky."

"We can send it to Hagrid." Ron said, catching on. "He's in the Order."

"Tonight then, after curfew." Hermione nodded in satisfaction and finished her dinner, while Lylah stared between the two of them.

"This is dangerous." She told them seriously. "I should do this alone."

"Says the girl who doesn't have to wear an armband." Hermione told her, not cruelly, simply defeated. "This is us, fighting in any way we can. We're going to help you."

"The War is over." Lylah hissed at them. "I'm doing this for my own selfish reasons."

"It's not over until all the Muggles are dead and there's no good Wizards left." Ron told her resolutely, and outvoted by her friends, Lylah began to worry.

* * *

Reviews are nice. Oh yeah, Snape's an asshole. It happens.


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